Trials: Wild Blue Yonder
by laloga
Summary: Five years after the fall of the Republic, a Padawan and a group of clones embark on a journey to recover a lost Jedi artifact. First in a series. Features OCs.
1. Prologue

_New story! Yay! _

_This is the first installment in a trilogy, essentially based around the problem of a Padawan becoming a Knight if the Jedi Order doesn't really exist any longer, hence the series title. I drafted this fic in November of 2011, during National Novel Writing Month, (NaNo), and it's been a bit of a journey to get it fit for viewing. Hopefully it'll be an adventure to read – it certainly was to write. :P_

_One thing that I'm doing differently is adding a "soundtrack" to this fic. Each chapter opens with song lyrics from a particular tune that influenced its writing – many are from my "Zero 7" (a band) station on my Pandora account. :P I've included a link to a playlist on my profile, if you're inclined to follow along. _

_As always, I make no money from this venture, nor do I own any parts of this story except for my OCs._

_A massive debt of gratitude to the lovely _**SerendipityAEY**_ whose feedback is as insightful as she is awesome. These stories of mine are always richer for her comments._

_P__lease read and enjoy; remember, reviews feed the storyteller's soul, which in turn feeds the muse, which leads to more stories..._

_Thanks!_

* * *

Song: "Futures," by Zero 7, from the album _The Garden_.

* * *

**Trials**

**Part I: Wild Blue Yonder**

_Made a note of it, did you write it on your hand?_

_Put a name on it, to help you understand._

_Well, do you see the future's holidays are for me?_

_Just let me know, where we go after the fall._

_Like the sound of it, gonna hang it on your wall?_

_Turn and run with it, for the sake of one and all._

_Where you go nobody knows._

_Well, do you see the future's holidays are for me?_

_Just let me know where to go,_

_Where you go after the fall._

* * *

**Prologue**

It has been said that there is a vast difference between knowledge and wisdom, and perhaps that's true. Knowledge is garnered a variety of ways – study, observation, and experience being chief among them – while wisdom is said to be attained primarily through reflection.

Knowledge is the lens through which one studies a text; wisdom is the eye that skims across the page.

The Jedi Knight, Atreus Rand, was – by all accounts – well-aware of this difference, but he was perhaps more conscious of the inexorable link between the two. In his mind, one could not exist without the other; the lens and the text would both be useless if there was no one to read them, and the eye with nothing to observe would grow dull and complacent with disuse.

Neither option was preferable.

This was the reason that he chose to turn his abilities towards the collection of knowledge, stored in the Great Holocron, so that future generations of Padawans, Knights and Masters would be able to absorb and reflect upon the information. Atreus was of the mindset that wisdom comes from knowledge, and thought to perpetuate that cycle.

But the Force held him in a different regard. Born Miralukan, he was not equipped with eyes that most Near-Humans share; instead, his vision was within, but far reaching. Some called it the Sight, but for Atreus, it was most often a nightmare.

From his earliest days he remembered being wracked with images, sounds and smells that he had no way to quantify or understand, except to know that he was at their mercy. There were more than a few distinct memories of waking up in the middle of a meditation session or sparring class, realizing that he was lying on the on the floor with his classmates' horror-struck attention fixed upon him. Atreus didn't blame them, because often he'd be covered in his own spittle from the loss of motor control, with a splitting headache from the force of his skull slamming against the floor to add insult to injury.

The instructor – well-versed in these types of things, especially with Atreus – would place a hand on his shoulder and ask the Miralukan boy, in a gentle voice that seemed not to note the irony of the words, what he had _seen_.

The images that had passed through Atreus' brain meant nothing to him; often he recalled planets that he'd never visited, or phrases in languages that he'd never heard spoken, but he could remember them all, just the same. Atreus would dutifully repeat what the Force had shown him; later on, he'd get word that the information had saved the life of an important person somewhere far away, or prevented a village from being wiped out in a massacre, and he was glad he could have helped, even though he felt far-removed from his own brain far more often than he figured was normal.

In fact, he was often far-removed from most things in his life, as his "episodes" made quite sure that few other students sought to get close to the Miralukan boy. As future Jedi, none of the Initiates were cruel, but none were overly friendly, either. Everyone kept their distance, and Atreus found that he grew used to being alone. He took solace in the Archives, amid the vast stacks of information, of _knowledge_ that he could absorb and categorize, hoping to understand.

Knowledge, he soon learned, was the first step to wisdom, and he wanted very much to be _wise, _almost as much – perhaps some days even more – as he wanted to become a Jedi.

It had been difficult to achieve a place as a Padawan, but not impossible. When he was not writhing on the ground, shuddering in a puddle of his own drool, he was quite capable, as his Miralukan predilection for 'seeing' through the Force made him a cunning warrior. Atreus was cautious by nature, and rarely took a step forward without considering his options. Though he would never distinguish the planes of his opponent's face, nor see the tell-tale shifting of their eyes, the Force showed him where they would move next, what angle their weapon would make as it approached his body, and that was more than enough for him.

Naum Kolos, a Theelian, thought so as well, for he chose to take Atreus as his apprentice, which was for a long time, the best day of the dark-haired Miralukan boy's life. For the duration of his time as a Padawan, Atreus had another being nearby who would listen to his visions and react to his episodes without fear or disgust, though he often sensed that his Master was overwhelmed by their violence and frequency.

Just as he hadn't blamed his fellow Initiates for their reactions, he thought that Master Kolos' were also justified, but often he wondered just how bad it really was. He'd toyed with the idea of recording his actions during an episode, but was admittedly reluctant to see for himself, and decided that in this one instance, ignorance was indeed bliss.

As the Clone Wars ground on and on with no end in sight, it became apparent that the Jedi were being cut down in droves, much faster than new ones could be Knighted. Because of this, Atreus' own Knighthood arrived with alacrity just after his Master was killed; within the span of a few hours, his entire world had changed.

Due to the nature of Atreus Rand's "special abilities," as it was put by the Council, the Miralukan was set to work on intelligence-gathering, in a similar capacity to a few other Jedi during the Wars. However, unlike some of those Jedi, Atreus was not to be alone. It was not – he was told – because of his lack of skill, but rather the fact that it had been recommended by his late Master that he always work with a partner, someone to assist him should he incapacitate himself during an episode.

As it happened, said partner was no Jedi.

Though the Jedi initially tried to be as pleasant as possible to the ARC trooper, it soon became apparent that they were too different, perhaps irreconcilably so, and Atreus wondered if the Force had a dark sense of humor in sending the sarcastic, impatient clone to work with him, for Tully made him want to pull out his own hair.

Atreus Rand approached a situation, considered his options, mulled over potential outcomes – perhaps meditating a bit for good measure – and then reached his decision.

Tully approached a situation and threw himself in headfirst, placing his trust on his considerable – according to himself – skills and copious training.

Atreus was of the understanding that _all_ clones were to obey the orders of their Jedi Generals without question or hesitation; when he mentioned this to Tully, the ARC Lieutenant snorted with laughter, called him a string of Mandalorian words that were probably unflattering, and replied that he'd happily follow orders as long as they were given by someone who knew what the kriff he was doing.

Needless to say, the young men encountered their fair share of arguments.

However, after more than a few shared, near-death experiences, they got over themselves and learned to work together, and for a time Atreus felt strangely peaceful with the partnership. Tully seemed to feel the same way, as evidenced by the copious, often ribald mockery that accompanied the ARC's attempts at conversation. It was in jest, though, and for Atreus, it was the first time in his life that he learned to laugh at himself.

Unconcerned, the Wars trudged on. Atreus continued to have his visions. Tully would record the things that he sputtered out, often questioning him about them immediately upon his regaining his senses, and they would send off a report to the Jedi Temple before continuing their missions. With Tully's help, Atreus was able to collect vital intel to the Republic, and he felt that he was doing some good, after all, and that he was adding to the wealth of knowledge of the Jedi Order when he sent the lead Jedi Archivist his findings.

Life was not easy, but in a bizarre way it was satisfying; for some time, that was enough.

Then there was a mission, too complicated for himself and Tully – a notion that irritated the ARC to no end – and they were assigned a pair of Antarian Rangers. The Rangers were a long-standing, respected order dedicated to serving the Jedi in the field, assisting them in any capacity. Tully complained that the Rangers were not necessary, that he and Rand were more than capable, that the last thing they needed was a pair of silver-eyed, white-haired Echani women getting in the way, no matter how legendary their fighting skills were said to be. Though he kept vitriol out of his words and thoughts, Atreus silently agreed, fearing that – again – the delicate balance of his life was to be thrown off-kilter.

As it happened, Tully had to eat his words, but – as he confessed to Atreus later on – he didn't mind the presence of the Rangers so much when Miriam Senna smiled at him.

The other Ranger, Miriam's sister Johari, or "Jo," hardly spoke, but when she did the sound of her voice lodged itself within Atreus' mind almost at once, causing the Jedi's complacency with his lot in life slid further away as he considered the distance between himself and a woman he hardly knew; despite his tentative inquiries towards her with the Force, he was always met with a blank wall, as if she had locked herself away. He told himself that it was for the better, as he figured that no woman would choose him. The shuddering, drooling nature of his episodes made for unattractive prospects in a mate, anyway.

Besides, the Jedi Code dictated his steps, and his own caution laid out the path of his life. There was little room in his world for romance, real or imagined, so he tried to ignore the way he felt when he heard Johari speak, while Tully – in his brazen fashion – flirted shamelessly with her sister, Miriam. With the Rangers' help, the mission was deemed a success, and the two sets of partners soon became one, cohesive unit.

And still, the galaxy continued the slog through the Clone Wars.

For most of the time, Atreus dwelt in two words: the reality of his missions for the greater good of the Republic, and the shadowed, shifting world of his Sight. Tully, Jo and Miriam aided with the former, and he was grateful to have them to share the burden, and considered himself lucky.

The latter, however, was all his own, and there was nothing to be done about it.

* * *

_Approximately one week before Order 66..._

It was late, and the ship was quiet.

A soft noise alerted the Antarian Ranger, Johari Senna, to another's approach, and she turned to see the Miralukan Jedi stepping into the cockpit, his cloak wrapped tightly about his shoulders as though he were cold. Without a word Atreus Rand slid into the nav seat and skimmed his hand through a mop of messy, dark hair, his expression conveying deep thought and his hunched posture filled with anxiety. Even though her heart had picked up a bit once he'd entered the small space, Jo forced herself to keep calm, urged her own agitation to fade as she cast him a casual glance and was thankful – again – that he couldn't read her own face like she could read his, and that she was adept at shielding her emotions from Force-users.

"Everything okay?" She wondered if he couldn't sleep. Tully and Miriam had been particularly exuberant these last few days, whether in defiance of the horrors of war that raged around them or in celebration of their own, new-found love, she wasn't sure. Either way, it was awkward to try and sleep while her sister and the ARC trooper were _together_.

For several moments he did not answer, and she wondered if he was ignoring her or if the words had not registered. Finally he gave a deep sigh and turned his head her way, lifting his slender shoulders into a shrug. "Not really." He frowned, the expression strange on his usually jovial face. "I had that vision. Again."

His voice tightened on the last word, and she made a soft noise of acknowledgment as he continued. "It's never been like this, Jo," he said, the words dropping to just above a whisper. The Jedi took a breath and ran his hand through his hair again. "Just as I've never had a vision about my own life, I've never had the same one, over and over in this way."

"Fire?"

He nodded and laced his fingers together in his lap. "The Jedi Temple...filled with smoke. Sounds of screaming in the night. The smell of burning flesh and plasma. The Archives...the Holocron vault...in flames." A shudder passed through him and he moved his hands to grip the armrests of the seat, as though he were holding on for dear life. "It gets worse each time."

For a few moments he was quiet, as if in thought, then he spoke again. "If the Holocron vault is destroyed, all of that information – _all_ of the wisdom of the Order – would be lost forever."

"Along with the Jedi Temple," Johari added in a soft voice. She didn't know what else to say. What was there to say, when she had no idea what it was like for him? But, she reminded herself, it was her job – her duty – as an Antarian Ranger to support the Jedi in any way she could. So Johari cleared her throat and modulated her words to be steady. "What do you want to do, Atreus?"

A hollow chuckle escaped him and he turned towards her, his dark hair falling in its customary fashion over the strip of cloth he wore about his face, where his eyes would have been had he been born a Human. "Too many things. But," he frowned again, and she watched his expression transform, and tried to ignore the longing she felt to reach for him. "I need to talk to the Council. They've always listened to me before. If the war is coming to Coruscant...they _must_ be informed."

"Of course," she said. "We'll head out immediately." With that, Jo leaned over him and adjusted the nav, trying not to think of how close he was in that moment; but he caught her elbow as she did, the touch so light against the thin cloth of her shirt that she almost didn't feel it. "Atreus?"

His mouth opened, but no sound came out for a moment. Finally he released her and shook his head. "Thank you, Jo."

They hadn't been far from the Core at all, so it was only about half a day later that she was setting down her ship, the _Spiral_ _Dance, _within one of the gleaming hangars of the Jedi Temple. With hardly a word, Atreus – a fully armored Tully at his heels – rushed off to the interior of the Temple, leaving the Echani sisters behind. Jo thought that there must have been something uneasy in the air, for she and Miriam hardly spoke the entire time that the men were gone, instead taking the time to perform their _karanas_, a kind of moving meditation that all Echani warroirs practiced.

It was nearly two hours before Atreus and Tully returned. The latter's voice preceded their approach, a rich baritone that echoed within the empty hangar. "So...that's it? No one has time to meet with you for three _shabla_ days, so you're just going to give up?"

"I'm not 'giving up,' Tully," Atreus replied, the tempo of his steps indicating that his pace was uncharacteristically rapid. "I'm...considering my options."

Tully snorted. Jo and Mira met them at the lowered hatch of the ship, and the clone removed his helmet – brushed with stripes of pale blue – to glare at the Jedi despite the fact that the Miralukan couldn't see him. "Your options, eh? What might those be? Do you need to fill out some kind of fancy form to get an audience with Their Graces? Maybe attach a strongly-worded letter? 'Dear Yoda: the Jedi Temple is going to be shot to hell, thought you should know. Love, Rand.'"

"I guess it didn't go well," Miriam said, crossing her arms and regarding the ARC Lieutenant with amusement.

At the sound of her voice, the clone's expression immediately softened. Tully stepped over to Mira and took her hand, giving it a squeeze before he jerked his head towards Atreus, who was still frowning in thought. "Not at all. Matter-of-fact, those _di'kutle_ council-folks didn't even have the time of day for him."

"Exactly, Tully," Atreus replied, though his tone was sharp; Johari could hear his weariness, and his worry despite the sardonic tenor of his words. "It's almost like they have a _few_ other things on their minds besides my visions."

"Which have _always_ been accurate," Tully shot back. "Honestly...if you were worried enough to have us pack up in the middle of a mission and fly out here, then you may as well just take the kriffing holocron yourself and be done with it. I know you want to. You basically said as much on the journey out here."

If Jo hadn't been watching Atreus' face when Tully made the not-quite-suggestion, she would have missed the tiny lift of his brows, and the subtle shifting of his feet that accompanied him whenever he got an idea.

Before she had a chance to ask him if he was really thinking of absconding with the Jedi artifact, Mira touched Tully's cheek and said something that made the clone grin and lift her off of her feet in a deep kiss, and after that Jo wanted nothing more than to escape back into the ship and pass off her musings as the product of an over-active imagination.

The trip to the Core had been taxing, so Atreus suggested that they spend the night; as Jo lay awake in her bunk that night, trying not to hear the boisterous sounds of lovemaking between her sister and the clone, she thought over Atreus' reaction again and again. In the year that she'd known him, the Miralukan had never done anything without a valid reason, and he'd never once let his visions pass without taking some sort of action. She'd heard his ideas on the importance of collecting knowledge many times, after all, and found herself wondering what exactly he had planned.

Eventually, she was able to sleep for what seemed like a few seconds, for in the next moment there was a gentle rapping on her door, followed moments later by the soft hiss as it opened, and a shadowed figure entered her room, halting about a meter from her bunk as he spoke.

"Jo?"

She had been fully awake the moment she'd heard sound against the door, so she sat up and tried to ignore the race of her heart when he said her name. "Atreus?"

"It's time to go."

She blinked once. "Now? In the middle of the night?"

The shade that was Atreus Rand chuckled, an incongruous sound amidst the previous noises that had been coming from her sister's room. He pulled a small, dodecahedral-shaped item out of his pocket, something that glowed faintly in the shadows of her cabin and she felt her eyes widen. "About twenty minutes ago, actually. Give or take."

"You didn't..."

Another dry chuckle, and the Great Holocron slid back into his pocket. "I'm afraid I did, Jo. I'm not sure exactly what my vision will bring, but I do know that this is a necessary evil to protect the knowledge that countless Jedi have collected. If it happens that I'm over-reacting, then so be it. I'll return the Holocron and accept whatever punishment the Council sees fit to give."

Jo felt cold, and rubbed at her arms with her hands. "Atreus...what if the Temple really is going to be destroyed? What then?"

He frowned and shook his head. "I've done what I can, Jo. You weren't there, today, but I was rather...insistent – crazy, more like – when I went to see the Council, but they had no time for me. Master Yoda assured me that the matter would be addressed, but I was dismissed without much preamble."

"I've never known them to ignore your visions."

At this, his frown deepened, and she thought his hands were shaking, though he quickly stowed them in the pockets of his robes. "Me either. Things must be worse than I'm aware, for them to do so." He paused, and she watched the way that the shadows of her room painted his expression. "I tried, Jo. I really did. I don't know what else I could have done."

His tone was despondent, and she was gripped with a desire to reassure him in some way, but she had nothing of substance to offer besides a poor joke. "A necessary evil it is, then."

"Yes, Tully had the right idea – this one time," Atreus said in a sardonic voice. "But don't tell him...his head's big enough as it is."

Despite herself Jo smiled, rose, and followed him to the helm; minutes later they were in atmo, then making the jump into space beyond. They were off.

One week later, Tully received Order 66 on his wristcom, and Atreus' vision came to pass. The Jedi Temple, and everything within it, was consumed with fire and with smoke.

* * *

_Approximately 4.5 years later..._

_The Imperial Inquisitor's blade ignited with a hiss; where the sound would have once provided comfort, now the familiar snap-hiss of the lightsaber brought only fear. _

_Immediately, a cry erupted from Atreus' throat when he heard Miriam call out in anguish, then he felt the floor beneath his feet shudder with the collapse of her body. Beside him, the Miralukan could feel Tully struggling through the bonds and haze of drugs that had been used to sedate him, the combined power of which was just barely enough to keep the former lieutenant's fury in check. _

"_Miserable charkaare," the ARC snarled, his voice choked with grief in such a way that Atreus had never heard from his loyal friend, not even during the night of Order 66 nearly five years ago. "Murderer! I'll kill you myself..."_

_There was a ripple of dry sound that Atreus supposed was laughter, and as the Inquisitor approached, the Jedi reached out through the Force to Johari, at his other side. She was stock-still, and her breath was very short. He tried to send her a measure of strength, but it was no good; her mental wall was high and solid. Impenetrable. _

_So he cleared his throat. "Take me," he said, keeping his words as steady as possible. "Leave them alone...it's me that you want, anyway." _

_Again, the Inquisitor's laughter fell upon his ears, except this time it was accompanied by the noise of the lightsaber as it moved through the air, towards his own face; Atreus felt the heat of the blade close to his cheek, he could smell the burning plasma and hear the low, urgent buzz that was such a more sinister sound than the soft hum of a Jedi's saber. _

"_Let there be no doubt in your mind, Jedi," the Inquisitor said. "You will belong to me, soon enough. But I'm afraid that my orders to apprehend only Force-users negate the other part of your 'request.'" _

_The buzzing sound shifted, changed, and Atreus cried out as he felt Tully's presence in the Force extinguish, as though someone had pinched the flame of his life to smoke. "Vod..." The word left his mouth as a whisper, and his head dropped. _

_Beside him, Jo had started to tremble. _

_The footsteps sounded again and Atreus felt the darksider's presence roil around him, growing in strength with each passing moment. Jo gave a soft inhalation of breath and a spike of fear slipped through her guard; as a result, the Miralukan felt as though he'd been struck with a burning poker. The blade buzzed and he could tell that the Inquisitor was holding it up to her face. _

"_So lovely," the Imperial agent said, his tone sibilant. "I must say, silver eyes are not my preference, but I do love to watch an Echani woman move. Ah, well."_

"_No," Atreus said, but it was too late. Jo's bright presence was ripped away as her body slumped to the floor at his feet, and he heard the Inquisitor's blade retract. "No," he said again, but he was too dazed with the losses to form any speech beyond the simple word. _

_Again, the laughter. The Inquisitor took Atreus' chin and pulled his face up, as though to meet the Jedi's eyes if he'd had any. His grip was merciless. "So now you understand," the other man said. "There is nothing in this world or any other that will keep me from finding you, and when the ones that you love stand at your side, they will be cut down." He gave a chuckle. "What is it that the Jedi used to say? You cannot escape your destiny, Atreus."_

"Atreus?"

A warm hand on his cheek roused him from the depths of the vision and reality came trickling back to the Miralukan. He was on his back, lying on something soft – the bunk they'd been sharing the past year or so – and he could feel the movement of Johari as she knelt beside him, pressing the backs of her cool fingers against his cheek and his arm as was her custom when he experienced a particularly intense episode. There was only a trace of worry in her voice when she spoke again. "Are you...?"

He groaned and struggled upright, pressing a hand to his forehead as he did so. "I'm fine."

"'Fine,'" she repeated with a sigh. "You've gotten as bad as Tully with that word."

They both chuckled, but he reached out to her, through the Force and with his fingertips, twining his hand in the long strands of her hair as he sought her bright presence to assure himself that she was whole. "The vision I just had...it's not relevant."

There was a slight frown in her voice even though she leaned her head into his hand. "Are you sure? It seemed...awful."

He couldn't bring himself to speak of it anymore. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Johari smiled; he felt the curve of her cheek against his skin. "I know, Atreus. But..." The smile faded and there was a warm sensation as she pressed her hand to his. "We were about to...go through with it."

The Jedi felt his throat tighten as he nodded, thinking that he wasn't sure what was worse: the thought of the woman he loved being killed because of him, or the recollection of what it was they'd mutually decided was for the best. Rather than debate the issue, he only pulled Jo close to him to kiss her, wrapping his other arm around her waist and savoring the curve of her hip and the warmth of her skin. When they broke apart he pressed their foreheads together. "And you're _sure_ you still want this?"

She nodded. "It's the only way we can be certain, Atreus. The location where we hid the Great Holocron is too important to risk. If you're captured, you have the Force to help you withstand questioning. But me..." Her body shifted as she shrugged, and he noted a ripple of apprehension from her. "I'm no Jedi. I'm hard to read, but I know that my mind can be broken into. And," she added in a softer voice. "You know I'm right. We can't risk thinking that we'll both be...around forever."

They both were silent for a moment, recalling the conversations they'd had since placing the Great Holocron in a secure location.

"A mind trick," he said at last. "You won't remember anything from the moment we set out on this journey. It's possible that the memories can be recovered if you retrace your steps, if you have to help the Jedi search for it-"

A soft rustle of fabric sounded and he felt the movement of her arm; moments later she pressed something crystal-hard and cool against his hand. "You've left me a trail to follow, just as we discussed, and if it comes to it, I can locate the young Jedi and those clones that you saw in your vision."

He stroked her cheek. "It won't be the same afterward."

"I know, but I also know that I'll remember _you_," she replied with a calm assurance that frightened him because he'd never felt such a way. "I know I will, Atreus. What we have is too strong to be forgotten."

Force above and beyond, he wanted to say something. He wanted to sweep her in his arms and assure her that it would be well, that their plan to return to Tully and Mira, to pick up where they left off and discover their love all over again – without the added burden of the Great Holocron – would come about with ease. He wanted to be the things for her that had always been forbidden to him, the things that they'd so recently discovered, and were about to lose.

But it wasn't to be. Something about 'destiny' echoed in his mind and Atreus swallowed once before attempting to center himself. He knew what he was going to do, but the realization that he was leaving her to save her life – Tully and Mira's lives as well – brought him only cold comfort. Had he been able to tell her his plan, he knew she would ask him not to go through with it, but the risk was far too great to be ignored.

"Okay," he said at last, sitting up and taking her hands with his own. "Are you ready?"

"Not yet." He felt the mattress shift, then felt her lips press against his as her fingers twined in his hair, brushing it back from the cloth he wore about his eyes. They kissed as though their lives depended on it. Finally she pulled back and embraced him, her body swelling as she inhaled his scent. "I love you, Atreus."

When they were like this it was easier to wrap her mind within the Force; with her proximity and the way that she had wholly open herself to him, Atreus could follow the pathways of her thoughts and sift through the ones that he needed to shutter away for safekeeping. Traces of memory fluttered under his attention, then faded as he concentrated. He felt her grip around his shoulder tighten, then relax as he coaxed her into a peaceful sleep, trying not to think of the fact that when her eyes opened, she would not look at him and see only a mild acquaintance, because – if all went according to his plan – she would never see him again.

_It's for the better_, he told himself. _She will die if you stay; the Imperials will find you and kill all the ones you love._ Better to be found alone and spare their lives.

Before now, he'd never once had a vision about his own life, but the spurts of insights sent to him through the Force were never to be ignored.

When he'd finished, Atreus Rand lowered the woman he loved down to the bed they had shared and put his fingertips to her lips to feel the soft expulsion of her breath. The Force told him that all was well within her body, and he knew that when she awoke, everything would be different. "I love you too, Johari."

Before he left, he bent to kiss her one last time.

* * *

_Lots of new OCs! As you can imagine, this is essentially setup for the rest of the fic, but I'm a bit concerned that this chapter veers between being boring – all the exposition at the intro – and overwhelming with all of the new characters, so I'm curious to know what you guys think._

_To clarify, Atreus' vision at the beginning of the third section, and the narrative that follows, all take place about 4.5 years after Order 66. _

_Thanks for being so patient while I kept pushing back the publishing date, and thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy! :D_


	2. No Place Like the Right Time

Song: "In The Waiting Line," by Zero 7, from the album, _Simple Things. _(You might also recognize it from the _Garden State_ soundtrack.)

* * *

**Chapter One: No Place Like The Right Time**

_Do you believe_

_In what you feel?_

_There doesn't seem to be anybody else_

_Who agrees with me._

* * *

_Approximately four months before Order 66..._

Of all the places in the galaxy, the Room of a Thousand Fountains was by far her favorite.

The sound of water was everywhere, from the slender trickle of bamboo spouts into small pools, to the falling rush that collapsed onto smooth boulders, brought to the Core from some distant, long-forgotten world. Reinforced flooring, built to accommodate layers of soil, allowed a variety of trees and plants to flourish indoors, bathed in the glow from high, hidden lamps that gave the appearance of ambient sunlight; an inhale brought sweet air, fresh from the verdant growth that made up the bulk of the Temple garden.

Zara Karell sat along the side of one of the smaller ponds, watching the wide-mouthed carp beneath the glassy surface of the water darting around her toes. She was so still that an unwary passer-by might have mistaken the blue-skinned Nautolan girl for a statue, until her head lifted and she twisted around in place, searching.

The sound of boots against a nearby stone pathway greeted her, but Zara did not rise; instead, she called out once, keeping her tone soft: "Lissy?"

"Zar." The reply was quiet, solemn, and so unlike the bearer of the voice that Zara's brow furrowed in confusion. Thick foliage surrounded this particular pond, so Zara was unable to see the other girl until her friend had sifted through the brush, but she could sense Corliss' distress as tangibly as if it were her own. Sorrow tinted the air around the Zeltron girl like a haze of mist, awash with notes of fear and bewilderment. The emotions should have been overwhelming; pheromones from Zeltrons were known to knock non-Zeltrons off of their feet if the recipient was not prepared for the onslaught.

But as an almost full-blooded Nautolan, Zara was able to sift through the rush of emotions and sense the core of her friend's spirit: loss, fear, and death, centered around her Master.

Before Zara could rise to greet her fellow Padawan, Corliss Auset appeared from the brush, her dusky pink skin standing out among the predominantly green leaves. Eyes rimmed and swollen, the dark-haired Zeltron girl made her way to Zara and plopped down beside her, folding her legs and ducking her head. She was silent. Rather than ask her to speak, Zara only put an arm around her friend's shoulders and tilted her head to the side in a wordless show of support; Corliss tensed, then relaxed and leaned into Zara after taking a shuddering breath.

They sat for some time like this. As much as she would have normally derived pleasure from the cool press of water against her legs as they dangled in the pond, all of Zara's attention was absorbed with her friend's grief. Finally, Corliss cleared her throat.

"Master Feróz was killed." Her voice was hoarse, as if she hadn't used it in some time. "On Praesitlyn."

At this, Zara leaned back and looked at her friend. "Wasn't that the mission that he didn't want you to accompany him on?"

Nodding, Corliss took another breath and reached up to smooth a stray bit of blue-black hair away from her face. Three years Zara's elder, the movement made her appear younger and more vulnerable. "He wanted to protect me. He made me stay off-planet, saying that I wasn't ready, that it was too dangerous...and I-"

Her voice broke and her head ducked again. The Twi'lek Jedi Feróz had been like a father to the young Zeltron, and even if Zara had not been witness to the immediate aftermath of the news of his death, she knew that it would hurt her friend more than Corliss could express. Zara squeezed the other girl's shoulders and leaned into her once more, feeling the waves of sorrow rippling off of her friend as she continued to speak. "I argued with him about it."

Zara nodded. "I'm sure he knew that you weren't really upset with him."

At this, Corliss frowned. "No, Zara. If I'd been there...I could have saved him. He wouldn't be dead."

"Or you might be gone, too," Zara countered in a quiet voice. "Lissy...it's so dangerous out there, right now. Maybe you really weren't ready. The War..."

Corliss shook her head. "The War means we have to grow up even more quickly, Zar. Everything needs to happen more quickly." She cast the other girl a mournful look. "I don't know what I'm going to do without him."

"It'll be okay," Zara replied after a moment, not really believing her own words. How could it be, when the entire galaxy was fighting itself?

As if catching on her thoughts, the Zeltron girl cast her a dark look. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not," Zara said, straightening and lifting her arm to set her hand in her lap, where her fingers began to twine in a stray thread on her tunic. "Look, right now it's hard to believe that things will ever be okay again, but Corliss...you can't give into despair. It's not the Jedi way."

The words sounded hollow to her, and Zara felt her own eyes – too large for a Twi'lek but not quite large enough for a Nautolan – lower to look at her hands as she added: "Fear leads to anger, right?"

Corliss made no reply, only studied the water below them. For some time they sat in silence until Zara cleared her throat, causing the other girl to glance at her. "Remember that holo-novel we talked about last month? I managed to find a copy."

"Really?" Corliss sat up, scrubbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "Did you read it, yet?"

Rather than respond, Zara reached into the pocket of her tunic and pulled out the item in question; it was unremarkable in of itself, just a slender piece of blue, glowing plastoid that contained various bits of data. However, Corliss' eyes widened and she gazed at the holo with reverence. After a moment she gave Zara a tentative look, and the blue-skinned girl felt a small smile creep across her face as she handed the holo-novel over. "I did."

"And?" Corliss' face was illumined in the faint blue glow as she scrolled through the text; the reflection of the words mirrored in her dark eyes. She glanced back up at Zara, who was grinning in earnest. "It's good, isn't it?"

"It's the best one, yet," Zara replied, leaning back on her hands.

"Was Persephone _really_ a princess disguised as a smuggler, or was it just another of Queen Marla's lies?"

Zara grinned at her friend. "No spoilers, Lissy." She nodded to the novel. "You'll just have to read it and find out what happens."

With a sigh, Corliss shook her head and looked down at the holo, a faint smile on her mouth. She didn't say anything for a moment before she nodded. "Thanks, Zar."

Zara nodded as well, then leaned forward once more, shooting her friend a nervous glance. "Are you going to get a new Master?"

It was probably the wrong time to ask, but some of the sorrow had faded a bit from the air, and the Zeltron girl seemed more calm. Even so, her face fell as she considered, then shook her head. "Master Feróz was perfect...no one else can come close." At Zara's look she sighed again. "He _was_ perfect, Zar."

"No one is perfect."

Corliss shrugged. "_He_ was. I don't know...I guess they'll assign me to someone else. Master Feróz said that I was only a few years from the Trials, anyway."

At this, Zara eyed her friend. "That seems awfully sudden...you're only sixteen." Despite herself, she couldn't help the tinge of wistfulness that colored her words.

"I don't think so," the Zeltron girl replied. "Like I said, the War makes everything move faster." She paused, then regarded Zara. "You'll get assigned, soon."

Zara gave a weak laugh. "I'm amazed they haven't sent me off to the Agri-Corps, yet." It was perhaps the most common fear among Padawan-hopefuls, the realization that one was not strong enough to be a Jedi, and would be sent off to work with one of the Service Corps organizations; though the Masters did their best to assert that such a thing was _not_ failure, it was still considered a mark of disgrace for any Initiate to even be considered for such a thing. Normally the cut-off age for becoming a Padawan was thirteen, though that, too, had been extended during the Wars.

"Don't talk like that. You're a much better Healer than me, Zar. And with a bit more work, you'll be quite handy with a saber." There was an edge of humor to Corliss' words that flavored the air, and Zara found herself smiling despite her own misgivings.

"That's true. Even though you can manage psychometry, you're pretty terrible at healing."

"The _worst_," Corliss giggled. "Even Master Feróz admitted that I needed 'more work in that area.'"

The thought ofher deceased master caused the Zeltron girl's face to cloud, and she fell silent. For a few minutes, each girl sat in silence, thinking. Finally, Zara's multiple _lekku _swayed as she shook her head. "I wish I understood why no one's chosen me. I used to think it was because there are too few Jedi in the field, but now..." She sighed. "I'm starting to realize that it's just because I'm not any good."

"Zara..."

"I'm the oldest Initiate at the Temple, with no Master. Lissy...you've been a Padawan for years and years." It was true and they both knew it.

The dark-haired girl frowned. "Only because of my psychometry, Zara. Master Feróz wanted to make sure I'd be trained properly, so I was started really early. Besides," she added. "At least you're not on the front lines, like Padawan Tano."

With a nod, Zara felt a shiver pass over her skin at the question that would not leave her mind: where was she meant to be? At times it felt like – no matter how vast she knew the galaxy was – there was no place for her, anywhere."All I want is to be a Jedi."

Corliss was silent, instead leaning her head on Zara's shoulder. They sat without speaking for a few more minutes before the Zeltron girl glanced at her friend. "You'll be assigned, soon. I can tell."

"How?"

"The Force shows me," Corliss replied, her voice uncertain, as it always was when she focused her energies on her psychometric abilities. "When I touch you...I can see the path that will find you."

With a frown, Zara wriggled her toes beneath the water and watched the carp that had grown accustomed to her presence dart away. "I'm not sure I want to know the future."

"It's not quite the _future_. I don't have the Sight, like some Jedi do. It's just what's...surrounding you," Corliss said, shaking her head. "I can sense things about people from the items they've touched, right? Things about their past and their present...and things that may happen to them, or because of them. It's hard to define, exactly." She blew out a breath in frustration. "Why can't you just be psychometric, too? It'd be much easier than trying to explain all of this."

"Okay," Zara replied with a smile. "I'll trade healing if you'll give me psychometry – we can compare notes, after." On a whim, she stuck out her hand; Corliss gave a light chuckle and stuck hers out as well, and they shook on it.

* * *

A few days later, Zara was in the Archives, shelving the last of her study materials from the day. Save the click of datapads and faint tap of her boots, it was quiet in the massive room of the Temple, as it had been since the start of the Clone Wars; so few Jedi were actually present on Coruscant right now that the bulk of the Temple's population were younger ones like her – Jedi hopefuls who'd not yet been chosen for apprenticeship, or Padawans whose masters had judged their most recent mission to be too dangerous for a youngling.

But at thirteen, Zara felt that she no longer fell into that category. Most others her age had already been selected and were in the field, garnering the experience that would serve them well throughout their lives. With a frown, Zara lifted a holo with the Force, setting it in its place several shelves above her head, thinking that she was old enough, she could wield a lightsaber with rudimentary skill – if not grace – and that _something_ must be fundamentally wrong with her. It was the only explanation, after all.

"Zara!"

The sound of Corliss' voice made her glance over her shoulder; she'd been so engrossed in her own thoughts, Zara hadn't felt her friend's approach through the Force. But as she turned her attention to the Zeltron girl, she blinked once at the waves of excitement that were radiating off of her. "Don't shout in here, Lissy."

Corliss huffed and rolled her eyes, which were sparkling with unrestrained delight. "They reassigned me," she said, her grin wide. "Already!"

Biting back a pang of longing at the notion, Zara gave her friend a smile. "I'm glad...who'd you get?"

"Alatea Shaan." As she said the words, Corliss grabbed a handful of holos and began to help put them away. "She's a Keshiri."

Zara paused and tilted her head in thought. "I don't know her...is she a Knight?"

"The Council said that she was Knighted just last month," Corliss replied with a nod, standing on her tiptoes to place a holo in its place on one of the higher shelves.

"She's taking a Padawan so soon?"

Still smiling, Corliss took another holo and shelved it haphazardly, nearly bouncing in her movements. "Exactly," she replied. At Zara's look of confusion, she gave a sigh of exasperation and glanced at the blue-skinned girl. "This has to mean that the Council thinks I'm nearing my own Knighthood...if they're sending me with such a new Knight, then that means they don't think I need much more extensive training...what else could it possibly be?"

Looking down at the holo-book in her hand, Zara shook her head. "You said it yourself the other day, Lissy: the war is making everything move much faster. Maybe they didn't have many other options."

At the words, Corliss frowned. "You don't think I'm ready to be a Jedi? I've been a Padawan since I was seven years old, Zar! Isn't that long enough? I'm ready...I _know_ I am." She shook her head; annoyance edged off of her, but despite her friend's bravado, Zara could sense another emotion as well, tangible as a taste in the back of her throat: uncertainty.

It mirrored her own.

That was the thing about Zeltrons: they were by-and-large terrible liars, and Corliss was no exception when it came to anything as close to her heart as impending Knighthood. However, Zara understood the need for keeping up a brave face, even though she found it difficult to manage. Besides, Zara also knew that – despite her friend's boundless enthusiasm – the other girl had a tendency to get swept away by the tide of her own emotions. It was one of the reasons that most Zeltrons were considered unfit for the emotionally ascetic life of Jedi, and Zara had heard her friend get rebuked for allowing her personal feelings to sway her judgment on more than one occasion.

So she took a deep breath and met Corliss' dark blue eyes. "You're only sixteen, Corliss. No one's been Knighted so early – ever. Not even Anakin Skywalker, and they call him 'The Chosen One.'"

"Maybe I'll be the first." The uncertainty spiked, though the Zeltron attempted to mask it with a flippant tone.

"Maybe." Zara shelved the last holo in her hand, then turned to face her friend. "Alatea Shaan...did you get to meet her?"

At this, a strange expression crossed Corliss' face, and Zara noted a faint flush that appeared in her cheeks. She toyed with the smooth face of the holo in her hand for a moment before nodding. "We did a bit of sparring, actually. She's...wonderful. Strong, smart, really brave. I think we'll make a good team."

The Zeltron emanated a heady mixture of pheromones, and for a moment Zara felt herself growing lost on the accompanying currents of emotion, which was when she felt the flash of something she'd never experienced firsthand, but knew all-too-well from her friend.

It was the other thing about Zeltrons that she'd come to learn: to a fault, they were lovers first and warriors second.

They stood in the far corner of the Archives, alone amidst the eons of garnered knowledge, and Zara tried to think of a way to tactfully say what she was thinking. "Corliss...you need to be careful."

"What does that mean?"

Zara took a deep breath and pushed her way through the emotions that Corliss was emanating. "Remember what we used to joke about when we were younger and you'd get all those crushes on vid-stars? 'You fall in love as easily as your heart beats.' Don't let your heart run away with you, okay?" As Corliss opened her mouth to argue, Zara shook her head. "And don't try to pretend with me. I was here when you and Padawan Elegan got caught in his room."

"That was _months_ ago..." There was a dark edge to Corliss' voice, and she had grown very still; they were all warning signs, but Zara had to press forward.

"I know. But Lissy, sometimes you...forget yourself. It's not a bad thing," she amended, seeing Corliss' eyes narrow. "But if you're going to be a proper Jedi, you need to avoid...distractions." She didn't add anything about attachment, as sometimes even Zara felt as though the issue was exacerbated by their instructors. "I'm only saying it because of how upset you were about all that gossip that came after the thing with Elegan," she added. "Remember?"

For a long moment, Corliss was silent. The only outward sign of her feelings was the dark flush that had bloomed in her cheeks; however, it was a small thing next to the roil of agitation within her. Zara took a step back as if to distance herself from the emotion, which was when Corliss' head lifted and she gave the Nautolan girl a steely glare. "I was upset about the fact that Elegan told everyone what we did when I asked him not to. I don't care what they think of me. I can't help the way I am," she added, her chin lifting.

Zara took a breath. "Lissy-"

"No, Zar," she replied, her voice dark. "Why do you think you can give out all this advice, when you have no experience to speak of? What would you even know about being a proper Jedi? You've been stuck here since day one, while I've been in the field – fighting in the war. What have you done, besides get beaten in sparring class over and over?"

Mouth open, Zara could form no reply. Corliss sighed and shoved the last holo on the shelf with a single, rough motion. "I have to go. Master Shaan wants us to leave in a few hours." She turned and made to head out of the rows of shelves.

"Corliss!"

The Zeltron girl paused, and glanced back, indigo eyes narrowed. "What?"

Zara bit her lip. There were tears forming at her eyes but she refused to let them fall. _Just let it go_, she told herself._ She didn't mean any of _it."May the Force be with you, okay?"

It was an old saying among the Jedi, one that meant "farewell and stay safe," but in that moment, Zara wanted the words to mean so much more, even though her voice refused to work.

Confusion wavered from Corliss, edged with remorse, but her expression did not change; however, after a moment she nodded once and took a short breath before turning again to leave. "Thanks, Zara. You too."

* * *

Some weeks later, Zara was swimming when everything changed.

The Room of a Thousand Fountains was not just for show; many of the aquatic species that resided in the Temple used the space for exercise, as it "felt" more natural than the swimming pool in the gymnasium, which – to Zara, anyway – tasted unnatural, sterile, and had no waterfalls to speak of. The sensation of innumerable gallons of water sliding across her _lekku_ was delicious, and for several moments, all that the Nautolan girl was capable of was to stand beneath the falling water and let it embrace her.

Strength flowed through her body, followed by a sense of calm that settled over her thoughts. It was easy to imagine all of her troubles being washed away by the water, carried off to a distant location and leaving her spirit whole and clean. Awareness extended, Zara was utterly relaxed into the Force, letting her consciousness dissolve into the energy she likened to a vast ocean; she was not just _here,_ she was everywhere, and everywhere was within her.

It was _right_ for her, this closeness to her favored element, and she was always heartened by the sensation of water surrounding her skin.

When she felt a new presence at the edge of the small lake, she was not alarmed, or even surprised. In this moment, she knew that nothing could hurt her, so she reached her awareness out. The new presence was acerbic and slightly irritated, though there was an undercurrent – faint, barely a taste – of humor. The new presence was a Human female; beyond that, Zara had no idea. When she turned and opened her eyes, her gaze fell upon a pale-robed figure that stood on the shore, hands folded, waiting.

There was something expectant in the air. Zara moved through the water with ease, angling herself at the newcomer and making her way as quickly as possible. As she approached, she could see that the Human was pale-skinned, with bright, coppery hair that was neatly pinned to the top of her head. Light blue eyes watched the approaching figure with something that Zara again identified as a strange mixture of annoyance and amusement, though the woman was expressionless.

Water dotted the sandy beach as Zara lifted her body out of the lake and moved through the drag of open air, at once regretting the absence of her element and noting that excitement had quickened the beat of her single heart, biological evidence of her mixed heritage.

Before she could speak, the Human woman frowned at her. "Zara Karell?"

Before Zara could do anything but nod, the woman straightened her spine and gave the Nautolan girl another unreadable look. Aside from the annoyance her emotions were tightly reined, which made Zara's brows knit with confusion as she tried to get a sense of the newcomer. "I'm Honi Tallis."

In response, Zara stuck out her hand in greeting, but the red-haired woman only eyed it as though she had no idea what to make of the simple gesture. That, or she didn't feel like getting wet. Finally the Human cleared her throat and indicated the gardens' exit behind her. "Come, Padawan Karell. We have much work to do." With that, she turned and began to make her way out of the room.

_Padawan_?

Zara swallowed, then hurried to follow. Excitement flared within her, tempered only by the knowledge that she had no one to share the news with. "Does that mean you're my new-"

The Human woman sighed and glanced at her. "Your new master? Yes." She did not stop, or even slow her pace, but Zara halted in her tracks, the name suddenly registering in her mind.

"Honi Tallis? You're one of the best Healers in the Order! Why would you want me?"

Here, Master Tallis paused, her shoulders tightening with irritation. "That is up for debate, to be sure. Now come on...we have much work to do." Her brisk stride began again, and after Zara's heart gave a little skip she hurried to follow, wringing out the side of her modest swimsuit as Honi continued to speak. "Based on my review of your file and after discussion with several members of the Council, I have decided that you are the best candidate for my tutelage."

"Where are we going?" Excitement seeped through her voice, a sure sign that the emotion was running away with her but at this point Zara didn't care.

Honi, however, shot her a look from _lekku_ to bare, blue toes. "Nowhere, until you are properly attired. And _dry_."

Annoyance flared from the Jedi, coupled with a faint tinge of anxiety, but Zara ignored all of it as they headed out of her favorite place and into the unknown. Her heart was light with the title she'd waited for: Padawan_. _It had finally happened.

At last, she was going to be a Jedi.

* * *

_Oh, Honi. You're so...something. :P_

_Few things:_

_First of all, lots of setup in this chapter. The next chapter will bring us back to the "present-day," as in the time after _Alchemy_ ends, and show us what Zara and Corliss are up to, now. There are lots of flashbacks/dreams/memories in this fic, most of which are clear enough to distinguish immediately._

_Second...another new OC! Woot! Corliss is a rather complex young woman with a long journey ahead of her. She's a Zeltron with no preference between males or females, so I ask that you keep an open mind. :) To be clear, she was never "involved" romantically with her now-deceased master – he was more like a father figure. Additionally, her psychometric abilities are similar to those that Quinlan Vos demonstrates. _

_Updates will continue every Friday from now until the fic is complete, (25 chapters & the prologue). I'd love to know what you think so far! Thanks for reading. _


	3. Anywhere But Here

Song: "The River," by Nitin Sawhey, from the album _Human_.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Anywhere But Here**

_Like the river to the ocean,_

_I can feel it growing in me._

_And all day, all night, in the rhythm of the city,_

_From the dusk to the dawn, I can feel it flowing through me._

_Approximately five years later..._

Buried within the Deep Core, the planet of Prakith loomed over the scattered moons that clung to its gravitational field. Resembling a hastily assembled array of reds, yellows and oranges, the jagged world jutted out of black space, standing stark among the stars as if daring outsiders to approach.

After sending a message to the transport that was following in her wake, Corliss Auset angled her starfighter and began to prep the sleek craft for a descent; within minutes the two ships were slipping through Prakith's upper atmosphere. As was her custom, Corliss watched as the patchwork melted into a unified, rust-colored terrain. The mountains were everywhere, broken only by a few daring inland seas, and as she approached Citadel Inquisitorius' location, the young Zeltron woman couldn't suppress the feeling that the rocky bones of the planet were beckoning to her.

It had not been so long ago that she'd last been dirtside, but each time she left, Corliss felt that it was harder to return, though she'd never quite understood why. Turbulence, gusts of unstable air, made the fighter shudder, as if it was also reluctant to land, and for one wild moment Corliss imagined abandoning the prisoner-transport and turning her own starfighter away from Prakith, towards the stars to make her way back into the great unknown.

But it was a fleeting thought. Shaking her head to clear away her idle fancies, she maneuvered the craft through a series of serrated peaks; once she spiraled around the final one, Citadel Inquisitorius came into full view.

Situated on a rocky outcropping, the Imperial stronghold rose well above the mountains that broached its sides, as if taunting them with its height. Unlike the jagged mountains, the Citadel was sleek and sharp, honed as a blade's edge. Made from a local type of obsidian, the main spire of the tower refused to glimmer even in the afternoon sun, the blackness seeming to absorb every bit of light that dared to make its way to the structure.

Misgiving crawled within the pit of her stomach, and again Corliss pushed it away and turned her mind to more pleasant subjects than the looming Inquisitor headquarters. Her mission _had _been a success, after all; the capture and confinement of one of the elusive Altisian Jedi was no small matter, and she knew that her master, High Inquisitor Tremayne, would be pleased.

A cloak, a ripple of deep crimson silk danced within her mind's eye as her grip tightened over the helm, and her breath quickened. Soon_, _she knew, all that she desired would be hers. This notion put a specific image in her mind, but it was not wrought from her pyschometric gift, but rather another kind of desire that made her fingertips ache and her heart beat faster as she imagined the way that Antinnis Tremayne would smile at her when the Jedi was brought before him.

So engrossed was she in her musings, she hardly paid any mind to the fighter as the autopilot took over and brought her within the hangar; all of the Citadel's spacecraft were outfitted with modifications that would allow for their pilots to focus their attention on matters other than the mundane landing procedures. The transport that had accompanied her was diverted to another level where the prisoner would be dropped off, and for an instant, everything around her was dark. It was only when she heard the hiss of hydraulics and felt the weight of the ship settle against the hangar floor that she realized she was home.

Home.

The word didn't sound quite right.

Frowning, Corliss shook the thought away and activated the hatch, using the Force to leap to the smooth duracrete without a sound. It was a cavernous hangar, outfitted with running lights set into the floor and at intervals along the ceiling. There were few other ships around at the moment and once the starfighter's engine shut down completely, only silence echoed off of the smooth walls. The Zeltron glanced around the area a few times before she realized that no one was there to greet her as she'd hoped, and her shoulders sank with disappointment.

However, just as she was turning to make her way into the Citadel proper, a new presence filled the room, and although her heart leaped she did not turn to face her master immediately.

"Were you successful?" Antinnis Tremayne's Coruscanti accent circled the edges of her mind, and Corliss' heartbeat responded with an increasing tempo that thrummed against the cage of her body.

Despite this, she tried to keep the anxiousness out of her thoughts, as he would see it as weakness. Instead, she removed a small pouch from her utility belt. Within the pouch was an empty hypospray, which she tossed to him before turning to approach. Tremayne caught it with ease, but did not examine the small cylinder; instead he watched Corliss' advance. Plates of near-black ultrachrome armor – favored by most of the Inquisitorius for its lightsaber-resistant properties – shifted with the movement of her legs and torso, and she was careful to ensure that her boots let no sound carry across the gleaming floor.

"As others have reported, the Altisian Jedi are alive and thriving," she said as she walked, her voice echoing in the chamber. "That hypo belonged to one who was foolish enough to drop it. He took a ship to the Outer Rim. I was able to track him." As she drew closer to Tremayne, she tilted her head to the side, letting her dark hair spill over her armored shoulder in a way that she knew was appealing to most men. "The stormtroopers are processing him, now."

While she watched him watching her, she ensured that her hips swayed with the movement of her legs and allowed her desire for him to seep through her very skin. It was her custom, but he never seemed to be affected, and she often wondered if that would _ever_ change. Grey eyes met her own dark blue ones as she came to stand just before him, and she noted again how the deep crimson of the silk, zeyd-cloth robe – the sign of a true Inquisitor – complimented his broad shoulders and muscular frame.

However, Tremayne's arched brow lifted her out of distraction, so she knelt at the feet of the most powerful Inquisitor in the Empire. Her body quivered with his proximity, with the heady promise of his strength and his certainty, and with the taut stringing of her own desire. After a moment she cleared her throat and added: "You were right, Master. Patience won the day, in the end. All I had to do was wait for the Altisian to make a mistake."

The fading afternoon light that had managed to creep into the hangar glinted off of Tremayne's almost-blond hair as his head tilted to her in acknowledgment. "You've done well, Corliss."

"Thank yo-"

A sharp gasp left her as his fingertips pushed the strands of her hair behind her right ear, and she couldn't help but look up and meet his eyes, her throat moving in a swallow as she did so. Within her chest, her heart was beating a frantic tattoo at the unexpected motion, but she kept still, otherwise. "Your skills grow with each day," he added nodding to her once. "Soon you will become a true Inquisitor, provided you remember my teachings."

At the unspoken signal, Corliss rose in a fluid motion. The dark plating of the ultrachrome armor fit her frame like a second skin, and she noted with satisfaction that his gaze lingered on her body just before he turned and began to walk towards the corridor that would lead them into the Citadel, proper.

The ripple of crimson silk trailed him like a shadow, and Corliss Auset followed.

* * *

_Across the galaxy, on Mundali..._

This time, Zara would make certain that there would be no distractions.

As she gripped the hilt of her saber and _felt _for her opponents, Zara urged everything else to fall away: the heat and humidity, the smell of cooking dinner, the chatter of clones and children...all of them were pushed from her mind as she waited. Instead, she tasted the air for the salt of sweat from Stonewall's brow and listened for the huff of air that Honi inevitably made just before she struck. Kalinda's uneven pace along the ground gave the dark-haired woman away, and the blindfolded Padawan tensed her body for one instant before she sprang.

The sound of three sabers igniting and shucking through the air to reach her – former – position met her ears, and Zara felt a thrill of satisfaction with the knowledge that she'd evaded all three of her instructors without the use of her eyes.

There was also satisfaction from Kalinda and Stonewall, the rogue Jedi and her clone husband, along with pride. From Honi, her true Master, there was...

Zara frowned and tried to ignore the disappointment she felt, because as usual, Honi's emotions hardly revealed anything. Instead, the red-haired Jedi lunged for Zara's neck, causing the Padawan to lean back, almost doubling over in her efforts to avoid the thrust of Honi's saber. Despite her quick reflexes, the energy blade caused a subsequent singe of heat along her sensitive _lekku_, and Zara tried not to wince.

"Be mindful of your thoughts, Padawan," Honi said, her voice breaking through the hum of plasma. "I sense your growing impatience."

_That _was certainly an understatement. Zara bit back her retort, instead righting herself and dancing away from them, trying to discern who would strike next.

_Stonewall_. His tread was heavier than that of the women, though his steps were blindingly fast, Force-enhanced as they were. Of all of the Jango Fett clones that had made their way to the small, Outer-Rim world of Mundali, he was the only one Zara had ever known to be Force-sensitive.

His strike was lightning-fast and powerful. Zara had no time to avoid it, so she was forced to angle her own blade so that she was blocking the clone's; for a moment his sheer strength overwhelmed her, and her arm began to tremble. But Zara knew him, knew his limits with regards to the Force. The air was thick and humid, so much so that she could practically drink it, and she inhaled once, deeply, drawing in the moisture. It was an exercise that made her _feel_ more powerful, which in the end, was all that mattered.

The Force gathered to her like an incoming tide, and Zara struck out with all her might.

There was a mild noise of approval even as she felt the ground shudder when he stumbled back. However, she had no time to savor her victory, for they were all three upon her at once, and Zara was hard-pressed to defend herself against the combined attack. For several minutes she lost herself to the fight, sinking into an almost trance-like state where she simply allowed her body to be guided by the ripples of the Force which told her where to go, and when to go there.

The sensation only lasted a moment, but for its duration she was no longer a Padawan, no longer a Nautolan/Twi'lek hybrid, no longer even _Zara Karell; _she was a drop of water rolling to the sea, a cloud, a burst of wind, sunlight on the rippling water...something that was merely an extension of the immeasurable energy field. She was lost to the Force.

It ended when she began to _think_ again, when her mind reveled in the sensation, and she thought: _this is what it means to be a true Jedi._ As she grinned, she stumbled. Her toe stubbed on a protruding root and the Padawan was pulled out of her musings as her body crashed to the grass beneath her feet. Knocked out of her grasp, her own blade buzzed against the ground with what could have been indignation.

"Good job, kiddo," Stonewall said in a calm voice as she heard him and the women come to stand around her, the hiss of their blades deactivating in unison sounding a moment later. Then his voice was a bit fainter, as if his head was turned. "She's gotten better."

Kalinda spoke next. "Very much."

"As long as she doesn't get distracted, she's adequate," Honi added with an exhale.

For a moment, Zara was only able to groan in an incoherent reply, spitting out blades of grass and reaching back around her _lekku_ to undo the blindfold. It was _so _bright here, she blinked her large eyes a few times as they adjusted, and she looked up at both Jedi and the former captain.

"I did it," she said, still somewhat dazed. Stonewall held out his hand and she took it, clambering to her feet in a manner that felt rough and clumsy when compared to her fluid movements only moments ago. "I felt the Force so strongly...just like a real Jedi."

Kalinda beamed at her. "I know," she replied, smoothing her dark hair back from her face where her plait had begun to come undone. "You were truly one with the Force there, for a minute."

"But you lost your focus and allowed yourself to become distracted, as you always do," Honi put in, shaking her head. "Zara...we've been over this again and again."

Before the red-haired Jedi could continue, Zara straightened and tried to ignore the fact that she very likely had grass-seeds and dirt smudged all over her _lekku. _"I know, Honi."

Kalinda inclined her head, and the four of them began to walk towards the cluster of buildings that made up the main settlement on Mundali; there were several infirmaries, as well as living quarters for the permanent residents, along with a large, well-kept garden and workroom. Beyond the settlement, a massive, ancient temple rose up above the tree-line, the amber-colored stone of the ziggurat contrasting with the verdant jungle behind. Though the sky was nearly cloudless, Zara could smell distant rain, and wondered if a storm would be coming, as the wet season was well upon them.

Hands laced, Kalinda and her husband walked ahead, their strides even despite the dark-haired woman's persistent limp. As they approached the settlement, Zara could make out the figures of several other clones and Force-users milling about the clearing before the main living quarters, preparing for the evening's celebration; moments later, she watched the Jedi and the former captain's paces increase as two smaller, dark-haired forms tore away from the group and began to race for their parents.

Once the family was reunited, Zara smiled as Stonewall pulled his daughter Kamala onto his shoulders, while Milo tugged at Kalinda's hand, breathlessly telling her about something he'd seen or – more likely – something delicious he'd eaten.

Often she found herself envying Kalinda, who'd traveled from one and of the galaxy to another on countless occasions, because she had, to Zara's way of thinking, always made her own path. Although the dark-haired woman was not a Jedi in the traditional sense, as Master Yoda would have said, Zara knew that Kali was still a servant of the Force, albeit on her own terms.

Belatedly, Zara realized that Honi was still talking beside her, and reluctantly pulled her attention back to her master, trying to appear as though she'd heard every word. The red-haired woman had _that_ look on her face that indicated she was waiting for a response, so Zara nodded vigorously. "Yes, Honi," she said, then added for good measure: "You're absolutely right."

At this, Honi's brow lifted. "Am I?"

Since she had no idea what had just been said, Zara took a deep breath and toyed with the braided bracelet around her left wrist, the coral beads smooth under her fingertips. It had been a present from Master Djinn Altis, the leader of the Altisian Jedi, for her eighteenth birthday, well over a year ago, now. "I'm sorry. I know I've been distracted," she admitted at last. "I'll try to do better, I promise."

"That's well and good, my very young apprentice," Honi replied with a frown. "But it has nothing to do with what we were discussing."

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in the fashion she did when she was frustrated. "I said that the _Stark Raven_ is due to return – finally – and that I'll need you to ensure that the supplies Traxis and the others are bringing back are stowed properly _before _you get lost in the festivities that Kalinda has planned for tonight. It's been far too long since we've gotten a fresh batch of alazhi, and we've gotten so many wounded recently...we need all of the medical supplies that we can get."

But all of Zara's attention had turned on its head at the mention of the _Stark Raven_, the ship that brought new supplies and patients to the Mundali haven. Due to an anomalous, planet wide Force-shield, the world was hidden from the outside scans and also from any travelers who happened to wander by; however, this meant that only a few people were able to actually locate the planet. The _Stark Raven, _owned by the Twi'lek, Ares Tabora, was tasked as a ferry – normally.

However, it had been nine months – nine long months – since the _Raven _had been back to Mundali, and Zara knew that Ares' lover, the clone Traxis, would be anxious to see his brothers and former squad-mates: Stonewall, Crest and Weave.

However, as glad as she would be to see the scarred clone who'd become a surrogate uncle to her, Zara's heart had not started racing because of him. Nor had the knowledge that the _Raven_ would also be bringing back her dear friends, Keo, Finn and Risky – younger clones that had been rescued along with her, right before Order 66 had been executed five years ago – set her heart on its sudden, furious pace.

Throat suddenly very dry, Zara gave a tight swallow. They had reached the main settlement and she smiled and nodded at the clones and various Force-users who had found their way to the haven, far in the Outer Rim; but she saw none of them. She didn't hear their chatter or even register the movements of their mouths as they spoke, to each other, to Kali and Stone, to Honi, to her.

No, her heart beat its frenetic tattoo because of one clone, whom she'd met as boy and watched – from a distance – as he'd grown into a young man that she thought about more often than she should have.

Five years ago, they had shared...something. A few kisses, an inchoate attraction that had faded into an uneasy friendship at her insistence, barely before it had begun. In the years since, she'd seen and spoken to him when necessary, but had always been careful to keep a distance whenever she could; at first it had been out of a desire to make things easier on both of them, but time had formed her actions into habit, and she realized that she'd spoken to him in earnest – about the weather, if memory served – only a handful of times in the past year.

_And now he's coming back, again_, she thought, her heart thrumming in her ears. _For who knows how long?_

As she continued to toy with her bracelet, Zara danced on the edges of fear, anticipation and excitement, and felt a little sick to her stomach at the idea of looking into his almost-golden eyes once more, after so many months had passed since they'd even spoken.

It shouldn't have been this way, she knew. Surely a proper Jedi wouldn't allow herself to feel so...nervous over such a thing, would she? The feelings that she'd had for him were in the past, having been set aside five years ago to fulfill her goal of reaching Knighthood with minimal distractions, and she'd forced herself _not_ to think of him at all, if she could help it. In her present reality, there was no place for such nervousness, and there was certainly no logical reason for her to react in such a physical way to the idea of Drake's return.

But despite all this, her stomach twisted and her heart fluttered, and she was at a loss as to exactly _why_ it was so_._

Swallowing again, Zara tilted her head up and began to search the sky, as if the _Raven _would appear by sheer virtue of her thinking of it. The sky was empty, but her heart was full and waiting, though for what she couldn't have said.

Again and again, his name beat against the edges of her mind, a caged thing ready to take flight.

_Drake._

* * *

From his place at the helm of the _Stark Raven,_ Drake watched the empty space before him and tried not to think.

It was difficult, more so than it should have been, even with the volume of the music at the radio turned as loud as he could tolerate it, and his eyes closed briefly, as if he could shut out the reality of their approach and soon-to-be descent. As was his custom before arriving dirtside on Mundali, he took a few deep breaths, trying to clear his mind and achieve, if not a genuine calm, then at least a semblance of one. Meditation, even a rough form like this, was one of the many things he'd learned from the former clone captain, Stonewall, though Drake had neglected the practice somewhat over the past year.

A light on the console before him blinked in warning; after running his eyes over the helm, Drake realized that their course was slightly off, so he made the necessary adjustment without really wanting to.

"You okay?"

His brother, Risky, was beside him in the nav seat. Feet kicked up on the console, head bobbing to the music, the other clone had appeared to be in his own world. His discerning look however, said otherwise. It was remarkably easy to read someone's expressions when they mirrored your own, after all.

Drake bit back a sigh, instead sitting up straight in the seat and adjusting the volume of the radio to a lower setting so he could speak. "Get your feet down – Trax will blow a gasket if he sees you doing that again."

Risky gave a snort of laughter and crossed his ankles, raising his eyebrow at Drake in a slightly challenging manner. "I'll take the chance."

"I'm serious, Risk," Drake replied with a frown. "I don't want to hear another _shabla_ word about us not being careful enough with the ship. Put. Your feet. Down."

"Is that an order?" His brother ran a hand through his close-cropped hair, presently dyed an obnoxious shade of red. Of all his brothers, Risky was the only one who'd elected to not only keep his hair short, but to alternately dye it every color of the rainbow as well. Secretly, Drake thought he looked like an idiot, but he refrained from mentioning the fact. Most of the time.

Sometimes a more passive-aggressive tact was necessary to get a point across to his obnoxious brother.

A slight adjustment on the helm was all it took to cause the _Raven_ to veer to one side, the jilted angle just enough to cause Risky to nearly spill out of his chair but not so drastic that it would cause alarm to Ares or Traxis from their place in the cargo bay. As it was, Risky's feet lifted from the nav as he attempted to right himself.

"Whoops," Drake said in his most nonchalant voice. "Little patch of rough space."

Risky shot him a dark look, but said nothing.

"What was that?" Keo asked, peering out from the lounge. "You're not trying to do that spinning trick again, are you?"

"_Commander_ Drake thinks he's being funny," Risky replied, kicking his feet back on the console and folding his arms behind his head. "As usual."

Inwardly, Drake frowned at the epithet. It was true, to a degree. His "CC" designation was something that wasn't supposed to matter this far in time and space away from Kamino, but it indicated that he was a command-clone, a unit who'd been genetically given the ability and inclination to lead other clones in battle, and – apparently – in life. It was strange, at times, to think that something that felt so removed from his current situation had such an impact on his and his brothers' lives, but nothing could change simple genetics.

Almost nothing, anyway.

The Kamino-bred clones had been bio-engineered to be perfect soldiers, to age twice as fast as regular Human men, to experience all of their vigor in the earlier days of their lives, and to be obedient without question. Every Fett clone knew and accepted these facts as a part of their existence, and – until five years ago – few had questioned them.

Until everything changed, and a "cure" for their accelerated growth had been found. Drake smiled at the memory. It had been a painful month of side-effects that he didn't care to recall, but the end result had been a normal life. He and his brothers were each twelve standard years old, but their rapid aging had been halted at seven years, when they were biologically fifteen or so. Now, from what he could tell, Drake and his brothers were physically on par with Human males in their early twenties, and he knew that they could each look forward to a normal lifespan, or what passed for one these days.

Keo came to stand behind the nav, leaning against Risky's chair and regarding the stars as he spoke. "I'll be glad to get back...Lev sent word that they've gotten some new arrivals." The inflection on the last word indicated one thing, and there was a grin in Keo's voice to back it up.

However, Risky looked up at his brother, perplexed. "Do you mean _female_ arrivals?"

"Yeah, Risk. _Girls_," Keo replied with a sigh, running a hand through his hair, which he kept at an average length, and was always careful to see that it was neatly trimmed. "And don't ask me to help you, this time, okay? I've got my own agenda."

"You know I'm no good at talking to them," Risky countered, twisting around in his seat. "You'd let a brother down?"

Keo rolled his eyes and glanced behind him as another clone stepped out of the lounge. "Hey, Finn – Risky wants me to play wingmate again."

The nerf-hide sketchbook that Finn always carried was open, and the other clone was in the process of examining it closely as he approached the group with slow steps. "That's great, Keo." His voice was distant and Drake could see that his attention was engrossed in the flimsi, his long hair occasionally falling over his eyes only to be brushed back by charcoal-smudged fingertips.

Keo lifted his brow at Drake, and cleared his throat. "Risky also said that he wants to dye his hair pink and wear a shimmersilk gown. With a really sparkly tiara. And _I_ want to take up cross-stitching. What do you think about that?"

This made Risky give a snort of amusement, while Keo lifted his brow and grinned at Drake.

"What?" Finn's eyes lifted and he blinked a few times before frowning at his brother.

Risky and Keo started laughing in earnest, and even Drake couldn't help but grin at Finn's bewilderment. "Mind on the mission, Finn," he added with a chuckle. The other clone shrugged, but shut his book and came to stand next to Keo. For several moments the four of them watched the stars, saying nothing.

"I'll be glad to get back," Finn said at last in a quiet voice. "It's been a really long time, hasn't it? Levy should be about done with that ship, I hope. It's hard to believe we've been away for almost nine months."

Risky shrugged. "Not like we've been doing anything interesting. Just ferrying stuff from here to there...pretty boring. Haven't even come across any Imps." No one missed the disappointment in his voice.

"Trax and Ares want us to keep out of all that," Drake said, scanning the console again – just in case. "'Too dangerous.'" He tried to keep the sarcasm out of his tone as he repeated the words they'd all heard countless times, but it crept in anyway, and in the reflection on the viewport he saw his brothers nodding.

"I miss Lev, but I'm about ready for a little danger after all these cargo runs for Altis," Keo added with a sigh. "Anything to break up the monotony."

This made Risky sit up and lean his elbows on the nav as he peered at the stretch of space before them. "We're not made to sit around like this. We need excitement. Action." He glanced over at Drake, who was trying to appear calm. "Even _you_ have to agree on that score, Commander."

He shouldn't have agreed. It wasn't the sensible thing to want to go racing across the galaxy, in search of...well, what exactly, he didn't have a name for. But sometimes it felt like there was so much _more _out there than what he'd been given. It was like the cure for the clones' accelerated aging had suddenly granted the young men all the time in the world, and he'd long since realized how much he wanted to take advantage of it_. _

Besides, anything, _anything_ would be preferable to having to return to Mundali and see Zara again, and know beyond a shadow of a doubt that how he felt for her had not changed, that it never would, but that she only cared enough about him to call him "friend." In that moment, Drake thought that he would give everything he had to turn the _Stark Raven _around and make for a distant star, and never look back.

He shouldn't have agreed with Risky. He was supposed to be the responsible one, after all. Keo was the indolent charmer; Finn was the dreamer. Risky was...well, Drake could think of a few words that described his temperamental brother, but most of them were not for polite company. Levy, who had his own reasons for remaining behind on Mundali, was the genius.

As for himself, Drake fancied that he was his own man, or was at least trying to be, though he realized that he had yet to learn exactly who that was.

The sensors began to chirrup and all four of the young men lifted their heads in unison, as if simultaneous movements were still ingrained even after years of not being in anyone's army. Mundali was there, even though they couldn't yet see it in the viewport, but in that moment it felt as though there was a tether, stretched taut from Drake's heart to the planet's surface, to a blue-skinned girl he could never forget, no matter how hard he tried. Drake sighed, then nodded.

"You're right, Risk," he said at last, watching as the mottled, azure and green planet suddenly appeared in the viewport, a gem amidst the stars, as if they'd never left.

Behind him, Finn shot Keo a strange look, as if he'd just remembered something. "You'd be a terrible cross-stitcher, Keo. You have no patience for anything that doesn't have breasts and _lekku_. And Risky...pink's just not your color, _vod._" With this, the laughter of his brothers filled the space, and Drake – after a moment's hesitation – joined them.

Home, or something like it. Either way, they were going back.

* * *

_Next chapter, we'll find out what Levy's been up to, and attend a few parties! _

_Also, Citadel Inquisitorius is canonical, and no, it's not the same Citadel from TCW show...confusing, I know, but it's canon, so...yeah. Blarg. _

_Antinnis Tremayne is also a canon character, found in the murky depths of the EU. Look him up if you want...he's an interesting fellow. I believe that my plan for him fits within his canon timeline as well. _

_Despite my rampant use of OCs, I tried to stick pretty closely to canon in this fic, namely with planets, organizations, Jedi abilities, etc. Let me know what you think! _

_Thanks for reading. :)_


	4. Children of the Storm

Song: "Talk," by Coldplay, from the album_ X&Y._

* * *

**Chapter Three: Children Of The Storm**

_Are you lost or incomplete?_

_Do you feel like a puzzle, you can't find your missing piece?_

_Tell me, how do you feel?_

_Well, I feel like they're talking in a language I don't speak,_

_And they're talking it to me._

Sweat pooled at the small of Levy's back as he angled the socket-wrench within the ship's engine compartment; even though he'd erected a series of tarps to keep the worst of the blinding Mundali sun at bay, the sleek, silver-colored hull was growing hotter and hotter beneath him, and his palm was slick with perspiration as he bent over the opening, intent on his work.

His body was starting to protest his position, balanced on one of the slender wings of the Deep-X, so he shifted his knees slightly to avoid the insistent press of his kneecaps along the hull. One of the retainer bolts within the wing kept threatening to shear off, and he was attempting to replace the blasted thing. It was painstaking, exacting labor, but he was determined to have the vessel in as perfect working order he could manage, so that by the time his brothers returned home, she could be finished.

Assuming, that is, they remembered to bring him the parts were needed to finish her_. _This thought made him sigh, but he tried to ignore the pang of agitation he felt whenever he thought about his brothers _out there_, doing what they wanted to be doing, away from home.

It wasn't that he didn't want to join them, but even as he frowned at the retainer bolt beneath his wrench, Levy knew that he was...unique. As much as most clones usually desired to be differentiated from their brothers, Levy often felt that he was _too_ different. A glance at his left arm made him grimace: the skin was a moray of jagged scars and pitted skin, evidence of the fact that he'd once had a cybernetic attachment on the arm, one that had been forced onto him by a rogue Kaminoan scientist about five years ago.

Even though that particular long-neck was long dead and the Jedi Knight, Honi Tallis had managed to remove most of the visible implant, he could sometimes still feel the wires, among other things.

The scars that remained were proof of the story beneath the surface of his skin, where a host of nanogene droids remained. The microscopic droids that had been injected by the scientist to allow his body to work with the mechanical implant had also robbed him of the power of speech – a side-effect that no one, not even Honi, had been able to correct. However, despite the loss of his voice, the nanos had proven to be harmless to the young clone over the years, and so he tried to live with the knowledge that he'd never speak again.

Levy sighed.

Yeah, it would be nice to talk, he supposed, but at least the _shabla_ metalwork was all gone, which was a blessing. And in its way, the Force had helped him out an extra little bit, so he tried not to allow bitterness to creep into his mind.

The bolt was almost smooth, so much so that the wrench couldn't grab it unless he tried a specific angle, and the young clone gritted his teeth in frustration as he worked slowly. Carefully.

Within his head, a litany of swear-words were being funneled to the stubborn bolt, and he was wholly engrossed in his task, until-

_Levy? You busy?_

The sound of another's voice in his mind would have – at one point, some months ago – caused him to drop the tool, but Levy was long-since used to being around Jedi by now, and replied in kind to the Padawan's question. _Sort of. Why?_

There was a pause, as if Zara was considering her words. _The _Raven_ is on its way back. Your brothers should be here soon. _

Levy grimaced, but wasn't really sure why. _How soon is soon? _

_Hang on. I'll see you in a second. _He thought that Zara sounded anxious as well, and he figured that he knew the reason why. _You're still at that ship?_

He rolled his eyes, but his response was light. _Where else would I be? _

The bolt was just _not _coming off, and Levy blew out a huff of air and sat back on his heels; shading his eyes with his hands from the glare off of the uncovered portion of the ship, he glanced towards the main settlement, searching for a tell-tale blue-skinned figure that he figured must be close. Though the Mundali Jedi had learned to speak to him through the Force, it was only possible if he was nearby...so far.

Some time ago, Levy's elder brother, Weave, had wanted to ensure that Levy would have a way to communicate with others despite his lack of speech should he fall into a cave or start to drown or something equally ridiculous in Levy's mind. After some trial and error with various types of comlinks, Zara had hesitantly suggested that they try speaking to him through the Force, a feat that Stonewall and Kalinda had managed between one another long before the clone captain had developed his Force-sensitivity.

At first Levy had been amused when Kalinda, Stonewall and Honi all kept staring at him and going all glassy-eyed as they attempted to "reach" the younger clone through the Force. However, the first time he felt the touch of Honi's awareness to his own it had been...strange, to say the least. Not entirely unwelcome, though he did have to take care to modulate his thoughts so that they wouldn't "project" out to the Jedi if he didn't want them to.

Of course, no one on Mundali would snoop around his brain without permission, but Levy enjoyed his privacy. So far the only Force-users that were able to do so were Zara, Honi, Kalinda and Stonewall, and even then it was often spotty and unreliable, but if he happened to be drowning or something, Levy was confident that he could "call" to any of them, and they would come to his rescue. Though he wasn't sensitive to the energy like Stonewall, the mind-talking worked for him and set Weave at ease which was, Levy had decided, the most important thing.

Zara had only recently learned to manage the feat, but he welcomed her presence more than any other, for she was his only true friend, especially since his brothers weren't around.

Among the buildings, Levy could make out the bustle of Mundali's inhabitants as they prepared for that evening's celebration; there was an amalgamation of clones, Force-sensitives, and anyone else who needed a haven in these dark times. Kalinda refused to turn anyone away, and in the past five years the settlement had grown from a few rickety buildings to a series of sturdy structures that was – if he squinted – something of a small township.

He smiled to himself as Zara appeared from the main group of buildings, then got to his feet both to allow the blood to return to his legs and give gave her a wave, which she returned. Moments later the Nautolan girl approached the Deep-X, regarding it with a critical eye. "It looks...better."

_Thanks,_ he replied mentally, though he couldn't quell the urge to lift his hands in the rapid series of gestures that he used to communicate with others who were unable to speak to him through the Force. _Still needs lots of work. _He thought of the sheared-off bolt and gave the hull a mild kick with the toe of his boot. _And a name. Right now all I can think of are swear words...might not be the best choice._

"Doesn't it need to be able to fly before it gets a name?"

He glanced over at her to see that she was grinning, and he felt himself returning the look. _Yeah, well. You have to prioritize with these things, Zar. First rule of starship mechanics: it's bad luck to have a vessel with no name._

"Okay," she said, crossing her arms. "Do you think you can call it a day for now? We're supposed to start helping with the party, but you smell like you need a shower, first."

He rolled his eyes at her, but indicated the engine compartment. _If you can use the Force to get that bolt out, she'll be one step closer to flight. One step closer to freedom. _He winced at the sentimental thought, but she made no indication that she'd picked up on it as she approached the wing.

"Show me?"

Levy knelt again and studied the bolt in question; as with the "speech" that he had managed through the Force, he was able – sometimes – to "show" others images from his own mind. It was a strange form of communication, but he was thankful for it. With Zara he felt almost...normal.

After a few moments he grinned as the bolt began to tremble in its place; sticking his arm down, he was able to catch the offending bit of metal after she worked it loose. From there, it only took him a matter of seconds to insert the fresh one and tighten it down; when he looked up, the Padawan's eyes were on the sky, again. Seeing him, she tilted her head. "I guess it worked?"

He made no reply other than making a "thumbs-up" gesture with both hands, and she smiled.

"I'm glad I could help. Honi asked me to meet her at her study after I 'collected' you. Ready to head back?"

_Not really. _He kept his thoughts mild, but the idea of the party made his stomach do a funny churn, as it always did when he was in a large group, full of the not-quite-familiar faces of those who constantly passed through the Mundali settlement. Despite his efforts, Levy figured that a part of him would always be apprehensive around anyone not in his immediate family of Jedi and clones.

Weave thought that the emotional scars were the by-product of his capture by the Kaminoan, and Levy gave an involuntary shudder as he imagined he could feel the blasted nanogene droids crawling beneath his skin. _Snap out of it,_ he told himself as he packed up his tools and tried not to look at the scouring on his arm that no amount of bacta had been able to soothe away.

All of that had been a long time ago, and he knew that there was nothing to be done about the past. The only option was to keep moving forward.

So he glanced at her again. _I guess I do smell pretty bad. We should get going. _

She laughed but made no reply, as he clambered down the wing to the point that was angled down towards the ground and slid to the grass below, wincing at the needling sensation of blood returning to his lower legs.

_So how soon is soon? _Even as he thought the words he glanced up at the sky.

Zara shrugged, her multiple _lekku _twitching as they often did when she was agitated, and he could see that there was something – or some_one_, he figured – on her mind. After a beat they began to walk towards the main collection of buildings. "A few hours, maybe. They'll be here in time for the party, tonight."

_I hope so, since that's the entire reason Kalinda's putting it on,_ he replied with a chuckle. Before he projected the next words her way, he thought over the phrasing carefully. _Though, I did miss them. It'll be good to see my brothers again. _

Sure enough, her face clouded just long enough to confirm his suspicions, but she replied in a cool voice. "Yeah. I've missed Traxis and Ares, too."

Levy watched the way her fingers toyed with the braided bracelet around her wrist, and sighed inwardly, though he made no reply. They continued on until they reached their family's living quarters, which had been upgraded a few times in the past five years so that it was fairly comfortable.

It was bustling, now. Crest, one of his older brothers, was deep in discussion at the stove-top with his wife, a slender, white-haired Arunai woman who – though she was petite – carried herself like a queen. Which, Levy supposed, she had been, before the Empire took over.

"That's too spicy," Crest was saying as Levy and Zara entered the main room, his voice echoing across the kitchen as he brandished a ladle. "Sweetheart...we have to feed about three dozen people, and not all of them have your taste for _halla_. Believe it or not, most of us _don't _like the sensation of our tongues being on fire."

The russet-skinned woman arched her brow at him. "I only added a pinch. Perhaps you've lost your taste for spice, Crest."

In response, the bald clone grinned and wrapped his arm around her waist. "That's not true, and I can prove it-" As he leaned in to kiss her, Levy cleared his throat, and both elder clone and former regent glanced over at the new arrivals. Crest gave them a mock-glare. "Aren't you two supposed to be helping with the setup? I know where there are a bunch of chairs that need a hand."

"Aren't _you_ supposed to be cooking?" Zara replied.

Despite her cool tone, she was smiling, and Crest let out a laugh that filled the room. "Let's just part ways and pretend that none of us saw anyone else slacking off, okay?"

At that, Levy and Zara slipped through the kitchen and made their way down the corridor that led to their family's living quarters. Each unit was equipped with a few rooms and 'freshers to be used as those that lived there saw fit; Weave had converted his and Honi's space to include a study for the red-haired Jedi, which was where she spent most of the time she was not in one of the infirmaries.

After a moment Levy glanced at his friend, thinking his next words and knowing that she'd hear. _Thanks for the help, Zar. _

She did not respond vocally, as he'd expected. Instead, she paused at the door to her master's quarters and gave him a warm smile. _Anytime, Lev._

* * *

In the chaos of landing and unloading in the Mundali late-afternoon, it was easy enough for Drake to avoid a certain, blue-skinned young woman. For some time he hung in the midst of his brothers, who'd been assigned the task of emptying the _Stark Raven'_s cargo hold, and he took a bit of pleasure at the feeling of being anonymous among the identical faces. From within the hold, Drake listened to Risky and Keo arguing about who was going to grab what container, when the soft scuff of footsteps along the durasteel floor alerted them to Levy's sudden presence.

For the briefest instant, Drake was transported back about five years, to that time on the _Chu'unthor_ immediately following their rescue from the Kaminoan scientist, which was when they'd first gotten a glimpse of Levy with his arm covered in wires and metal. There was a flash of silence while Levy looked at them, his expression uncertain beneath his scruffy hair. It was strange at times to think of him on Mundali while the rest of them went about their business in the rest of the galaxy.

"Were you going to help, or did you want to keep standing there like a gullipud?" Keo's easy tone snapped them all out of the trance, and Levy gave wry grin and lifted his hands.

_Please tell me you remembered the power converter._

At this, Finn's eyes lit up. "Is the Deep-X ready?" Levy nodded and Finn's face broke into a smile as he turned to Keo. "Maybe we can take it out after we install that PC."

From here, it was as if the young men had never been apart, and for a while it was like it had always been this way; Drake found that he was able to breathe a little easier when all his brothers were together and whole, and part of him wondered if it was his command genetics that made him feel this way, as none of the others had ever expressed any similar notion. But as he hefted the nearest crate and half-listened to his brothers' bickering, he tried to set the thought aside. He was not CC-6014 any longer; he was only Drake_._

An image of Zara, sounding out his newly-minted name years ago, came into his mind, and he tried to shake the image away, as he turned his attention to the matter of unloading the ship.

Some hours later, when the inhabitants of Mundali gathered for the celebration, he found it next to impossible to _not _seek Zara out, though he gave it his best shot. Again, he was thankful for being a clone, as it was easy to remain unnoticed among others who shared his face, and from his place between Finn and Levy, Drake watched the assortment of Jedi, Force-sensitives and rogue clones interact at the long rows of tables that had been pushed together outside, in a level, grassy clearing before the buildings that housed the his family's living-quarters.

Even though it was late spring on Mundali and the heat was really starting thicken, there were traces of cool on the evening breeze, and the humidity was thankfully not as strong as it could have been. There had been some clouds when he'd landed the _Raven _earlier that day, but upper-level winds had pushed them aside, revealing a sky that was peppered with stars, along with the crescent-nail of a waxing moon.

Someone – Levy had indicated that it had been Weave – had set up tallish, staked lanterns at various intervals, their yellow-colored bulbs adding to the ambient light, with the added benefit of their glow that attracted any insects away from the tempting food, which was both delicious and plentiful.

Thanks to Crest and Sita, there was a wide variety of options; Drake alone had sampled some kind of Pantoran chutney, Mandalorian _uj _cake, spicy Arunai _halla, _and several other dishes whose names he hadn't caught but he'd enjoyed nonetheless. Ares had uncovered a several bottles of Corvala Gold – a strong Togruta mead – so the mood was genial.

The sound of children playing met his ears; Kali and Stonewall's kids, as well as a few others that had found their way to the planet, were presently running around the legs of Sita, Crest and another clone. Both Milo and Kamala were brandishing toy sabers; Milo darted after his sister, who squealed and lunged after him.

Drake noted that Kalinda and Stonewall's eyes rarely left their children,and he knew that their attention was constantly upon the younger ones' Force-signatures as well. Every now and again, the kids would streak by their parents, which was when Kalinda or Stone would grab one or both of the younglings and attempt to get them to eat a few bites of dinner; if nothing else, it was entertaining to watch, though Drake could have done without the shrieking.

Keo's voice sounded a few heads down and Drake resisted the urge to chuckle at the sight of his brother, hair clean, combed and faintly glimmering in the light, dividing his attention between Meriel and Tahirah, two former Padawans who had apparently been brought to Mundali during the _Raven's _absence. "So, are you settling in okay, Meriel?" Keo asked, smiling at the young, Twi'lek woman. "You were in pretty bad shape when you got here, from what I heard. I know Djinn – Master Altis, I mean – was worried."

Meriel smiled at him, her peach-skin softly glowing in the light from the lanterns. "I'm better, now, thank you." She glanced at Tahirah, a Human girl who looked dubious as she smoothed back a strand of blonde hair, then back at the clone, who gave her a lazy grin and leaned back in his chair.

"I"m glad to hear it," he said. "It's not a bad place to crash-land, is it? You know, I helped build the housing area where everyone stays."

The Twi'lek raised a brow, but it was Risky who spoke next. From his place across from Keo, he leaned forward, anxiousness on his face, and Drake resisted the urge to groan as his brother cleared his throat and looked at the blonde. "We all worked on building the...er...building. It was pretty hard work, if you know what I mean."

He topped it off with a sloppy wink and the Human girl's brows knitted as she edged a little away from him. Drake didn't miss the glare that Keo shot his brother, though it faded quickly as he glanced at Meriel again.

"He sure does love those Twi'lek girls," Finn murmured from his place beside Drake. A glance his way showed Drake that his brother was sketching again, what looked like a blueprint of a ship of some kind. "Keo, I mean," Finn said, glancing up and tucking a strand of long hair behind his ears.

Of all the younger clones, he wore his fairly long, though he usually kept it gathered with a band at the back of his neck. "If a girl has _lekku, _she also has his attention...Well," he amended quickly, looking back down at his sketchpad. "Not _every_ girl."

Here, Drake cast a very brief glance down the table; Zara was seated between Honi and Crest, her eyes fixed on her plate. As always, he thought that she was beautiful. However, in recent years he'd noticed the swell of her curves more than he had before, to the point where it was difficult not to think of her in wholly inappropriate ways, ways that he should not think of a _friend_. To distract himself from _those_ thoughts, he studied her expression and posture, noting that she seemed decidedly uncomfortable, and he wondered why.

Suddenly, she glanced up and met his eyes; they shared a look and for one moment everything else fell away from him even as heat crept to his face. Her dark eyes, large and expressive, seemed to widen a fraction, then she broke the gaze to glance back down at her plate, and did not look his way again.

Drake gave a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair, his food forgotten. Sideways glances, persistent hope...it was all a stupid way for him to keep acting, and he knew that he needed to put an end to it. He needed to stop obsessing over her and focus on being only a friend. _Just_ a friend. It had been enough for the past five years, and he knew there was no logical reason for the fact to change, ever.

No matter that every time he saw her, she looked more and more...

And her eyes, they still...

He winced and sifted the food on his plate around, if only to give his hands something to do, and decided to turn his attention to other, less frustrating things. Across from him, squirming younglings in their respective laps, Kalinda and Stonewall were in deep discussion with Ares and Traxis. Presumably, someone had just asked about Master Altis.

"Djinn seemed distracted when we met with him," Ares said, his coral-colored _lekku_ twitching in agitation even as he sipped his drink. "More so than he's been of late. He didn't say as much, but I got the feeling that he was nervous about something in particular."

Beside the Twi'lek, Traxis nodded, chewing a bite of food, thoughtfully. "He hasn't heard from Skirata at all in recent weeks. Last we heard, fewer and fewer clones have been turning up."

Drake cast a look at the tables, noting the presence of about half a dozen former soldiers of the GAR, in varying degrees of health. "So they're all just working for the Empire, now?"

Stonewall gave him an unreadable look, which was quite a feat for a clone. "Perhaps. Or perhaps some have gone into hiding, like us."

_In hiding. _

The phrase made Drake frown. He didn't like the idea of sitting around, and shifted in his seat almost on impulse. Glancing up, he noticed that Stonewall was still watching him, and tried to appear nonchalant despite his own misgivings. He wondered if the former captain was going to say something to him. However, Kamala chose that particular moment to squeal and toss a portion of the vegetables that her father was trying to convince her to eat towards Milo, who struggled to return the gesture with his own dinner.

Finally, the dinner ended and the celebrants began to clear the tables; Kalinda had planned some type of music-making, and the former members of Shadow Squad had discussed bringing out their old instruments. It sounded interesting, but any and all sense of celebration had left Drake's mind before he'd set foot on the planet, and he didn't much feel like being with anyone else.

As Drake was debating about how quickly he could make it to his room, Risky approached him, sidling up beside his brother and speaking in an undertone. "We're gonna take the Deep-X on a test flight down to the beach," he murmured. "Some of the Padawans are coming as well...you in, Commander?"

Drake glanced around at the adult clones and others, who had dragged most of the chairs that had been at the dining tables into a messy circle off to one side, and he could hear the sounds of instruments being tuned above the light thrill of laughter: strings were plucked, flutes were blown, and there were skitters of drumbeat. He looked back at his brother, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Risky thumbed in the direction of the others, who were loitering at the edges of the settlement. "Zar's already gone – said something about taking a speeder-bike out with some blankets and and Levy left a few minutes ago."

At this Drake frowned. Had he missed something crucial? His mute brother had made no indication of anything that might be between him and Zara...but the thought unsettled Drake in a way that was wholly unusual. "Levy?"

"Come on, _vod_," Risky replied, waving his hand as if motioning away his brother's concerns before he nodded in the direction of the jungle, beyond which was the makeshift hangar that housed the homestead's ships. "Let's not hang around. There's something more fun happening somewhere else."

The Deep-X was a lithe, crescent-shaped craft, made for deep space exploration – as the name implied. It was compact and although this particular one had seen better days, it could fit the entire group comfortably, which was all that mattered in the end. Once Drake was certain that his brothers and the others who were coming along were secure, he fired up the engines and gave a quiet sigh of relief when the ship lifted from the ground. Moments into the flight, he could tell that it handled beautifully.

"Lev did a number on the stabilizers," Finn murmured in appreciation as they skimmed over the treetops. "I wonder what we should call her?"

This struck up a debate among the clones, and for the duration of the journey the mood was jovial, particularly when Keo revealed that he'd managed to sneak a bottle of the Togruta mead away. While it was widely known that the clones' genetics had been tweaked, making them light-weights when it came to imbibing alcohol, Keo was constantly trying to push the envelope when it came to such matters. However, Drake noted that neither Meriel nor Tahirah seemed impressed with his brother's subterfuge.

At the helm, Drake steered the craft with a practiced hand, and he noted again that it was – above all other things – fast, and very maneuverable.

On Kamino, Drake had been part of a group of clones whose genetics were modified in order to better fly a starship, so piloting always brought him a measure of comfort. From his place at the nav, Finn's normally quiet voice had taken on the excited tone it always did when he was engrossed in talking about a new ship, though since Drake's hands were busy, all he could do was nod. After a few minutes, Finn grew quiet, so Drake was able to spare some of his attention for the conversation that was taking place behind him. Despite his unnamed agitation, he gave a faint smile as he peered out the viewport and listened to Keo's chatter.

"It's interesting, running errands with Trax and Ares," Keo was saying to the Twi'lek girl. "But kinda boring. Back and forth, from here to the _Chu'unthor, _or some backwater planet that's dull as ditchwater. They make us stay behind on all of the exciting missions."

Meriel shook her head at the regretful tone of his voice. "My life has been exciting enough."

Keo gave her a warm smile. "Be thankful for that,_ Mer'ika._" The use of the affectionate, Mando'a term must have made her brows knit, because soon Keo was engrossed in a discussion about the Mandalorian language, Risky intermittently jumping in with examples of a few choice swears that made the others chuckle.

It was pleasant, and for one moment Drake forgot to think about anything except the sky outside and the thrumming vessel beneath his hands. Above their heads, he could make out the moon, barely starting its descent towards the horizon, but still managing to tint the treetops below in silver.

He tried not to think about Zara.

At this, he failed.

Luckily, he was spared from dwelling for too long, as they reached their destination within a few minutes.

Mundali was primarily covered in thick jungle, though after some exploration a few years ago, they'd discovered a spiny ridge of mountains to the south of their settlement, and icy poles as well. There were two vast continents, divided by a mighty stretch of ocean; as it turned out, the place where his family had chosen to situate themselves was not far at all – by starship – from the curved coastline, a slip of beach that arched out from the mainland to create a barrier against the sea. Here, the dunes of sand were sugar-soft and the waves were balmy and mild.

It was a good place to get away.

Apparently Zara and Levy had gotten there before everyone else to set up a few of the torches, so the darkening sky was obscured by flickering firelight. In addition to the mead, Keo had grabbed some food and a few more blankets; once Drake carefully set the ship down some distance away from Zara's speeder-bike, the group disembarked and began to set up a makeshift camp. Blankets were spread over the pale sand, food was laid out. The mead was opened and distributed.

Soon the air was about as convivial as it had been earlier, though it was full of younger, slightly more raucous laughter than it had been back at the settlement. Aside from the clones and female Padawans, there were a few others whose names Drake didn't know, newcomers who'd arrived on Mundali sometime in the past few months he supposed. Tahirah and Meriel were sitting cross-legged on one of the blankets, cups in their hands, glancing between Keo and Risky, who were – in Risky's case, anyway – attempting to chat them up. There was also a slender Cerean female, and a green-skinned Rodian male, who looked decidedly ill at ease with his situation.

Finn sat near the group, but not too close; his attention was on the stretch of land that stuck out into the bay, bathed in the last of the moonlight, and for a few minutes Drake watched his brother's charcoal move across his sketchbook. He caught a glimpse of Levy and Zara sitting beside one another on a blanket, in the middle of a discussion or something, and that uncomfortable feeling in his gut returned.

All of his brothers knew how he felt about Zara; it was the one and only thing that none of them teased him about, but he couldn't help but feel a touch of alarm. After all, Lev and Zara were the ones who stayed behind, weren't they? It would make sense that – in the absence of the others – they'd turn to one another. A large part of him knew that he was being possessive and paranoid, but he couldn't keep the flash of jealousy at bay.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but he couldn't stop it any more than he could halt the moon's progress in the sky.

So at first Drake only sipped the cup of mead that Keo had handed him and tried to look like he was enjoying himself; moments later, he felt a presence at his side. Turning, he noted that the Rodian had approached him, webbed fingers tight along the side of his cup. Drake straightened and nodded to the fellow, who seemed relieved to have someone acknowledge him.

"Nice, isn't it?" Drake kept his tone friendly and sipped the mead, trying not to grimace at the unfamiliar taste. Keo and Risky had snuck some of Ares' ale before, or tried to, as the Twi'lek was notoriously sharp when it came to keeping track of his liquor. The first time they'd gotten caught...well, it had been an eye opener, to say the least. Afterward, Risky had commented that he'd thought – of the two of them – Traxis' temper would be the one to watch out for, and wow, had he been wrong.

Even though there was no one to bust him for the drink, Drake lowered the cup and indicated the general direction of the beach, the moon and the others, where the sound of laughter had increased. "Once the sun goes down and the worst of the heat fades, it's not so bad."

The Rodian's antennae quivered before he responded. "I still can't believe I made it here." At Drake's querying look he frowned. "I was brought in with Tahirah...we were on the run for a long time, being hunted by the Empire. Chased from planet to planet..." He trailed off and sipped his cup, his large, multi-faceted eyes downcast.

Drake studied the patterns of moonlight on the rippling water as he considered his next words. "I'm glad you made it, then. It's rough out there." He didn't know, not really, but it felt like the right thing to say. After another moment he frowned and stuck out his hand. "Sorry...I'm Drake, by the way. We just got back from a long trip."

"I'm Nert." The Rodian hesitated, then shook his hand in return. "It's okay. I'm still getting used to being around others again. There are a lot of people here." His hand lifted and Drake knew that he was indicating the planet and the settlement, not just this particular group.

"Yeah, it's pretty crowded right now," Drake replied, shifting his feet. He suddenly realized that he'd been standing at a modified parade-rest and attempted to make his stance more casual. "Lately it seems to be getting worse and worse."

Nert nodded but did not respond immediately. Finally he glanced at Drake. "It's better than _out there_, for sure." He shuddered, despite the warm air. "If you're a Force-sensitive, anyway."

"Don't forget, I share a face with most of the Imperial Army," Drake replied in a dry voice. "Not exactly a good idea for me to run around out there." He skimmed a hand through his lengthening hair, unconsciously, and wondered if his voice sounded too wistful.

"But they don't _hunt_ you," Nert countered, turning to face Drake. "The Emperor has these...these agents. Inquisitors, they call them. Force-sensitives who've been turned to the Dark Side and trained to hunt Jedi or _anyone_ who can use the Force." He shuddered and – as if on a whim – downed the rest of his drink before looking off into the stars. "One of them found my Master and killed her because she wouldn't turn. I managed to get away...after that I caught up with Tahirah."

A shiver passed through Drake, but he couldn't think of a fitting reply. They were quiet for a moment, watching the others. At some point the females had begun chatting to one another, ignoring Keo and Risky, the latter of whom looked a bit put-out. Keo, on the other hand, simply leaned back on his elbows and regarded the lapping waves, seemingly unconcerned that his romantic interest had turned from him. Finn continue to sketch by lamplight, though Drake could see that the page had turned and he was now working on what appeared to be the design for a ship of some kind.

Suddenly, the sound of a dulcimer broke through the susurration of the ocean waves; everyone quieted and turned to a nearby blanket, where Levy and Zara were seated. The former was strumming Kalinda's old dulcimer, a scratched and battered thing that had clearly seen better days, though the sweet sound he was coaxing from it belied its appearance. For a few moments Drake marveled at his brother's talent with the instrument, as neither he nor the others had taken to music in quite the same way. The melody floated through the air, reaching the ears of all who listened, and soon every voice stilled and every face turned to the sound.

But that was not what captivated Drake.

Beside Levy, seated cross-legged on the faded blanket, Zara lifted her head and began to sing. It was a language that Drake had not heard before, though some shadowed corner of his brain told him that it was Nautolan, and he wondered if it was a lullaby, a love song, or something else altogether. Her voice was clear and unwavering, and the sounds of the words were carried along Levy's music to reach his ears, and strike at some dark place within his heart, igniting it like a tinderbox.

Zara sang and Drake was lost to her. He realized now – and it was also a knowledge that struck him again and again – that he always would be, in some way.

But her eyes did not fall on him or anyone else. No, she sang as if to the stars alone.

* * *

_Whew! That was a long one...sorry about that. :P  
_

_Few things: for those of you who care to know, the Deep-X ship is a scout-ship variant of the DPX Yacht. It's a nifty looking little craft._

_For some reason, Kali and Stone's kids are...a handful, to say the least. :P Don't know why, but that's how it worked out. Also, if you're familiar with the _Eye Of the Storm_ trilogy, you should appreciate the brief cameo of Crest and Sita, who had their own HEA, after all. :D _

_Levy's ability to communicate with others via the Force is something that I debated about for a long time - and almost took out altogether - but it turned out to be rather important to the trilogy. If you remember, Stonewall and Kali were able to do so before the captain became Force-sensitive, so hopefully it's not too far-fetched, which seems an odd thing to say, all other things considered. _

_Finally, to be clear, Levy and Zara are _not_ harboring any romantic feelings for one another, even if Drake doesn't realize that. They're BFFs, no doubt, but nothing more. :)_

_Next up...busted! :P Also...May the Fourth be with you! :D  
_

_Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated..._


	5. Wanderlust

Song: "Pop Art Blue," by Zero 7, from the album, _Yeah Ghost. _If you're so inclined, there's a link to the "soundtrack" for this fic on my author page. :)

* * *

**Chapter Four: Wanderlust**

_Well it's all up from here,_

_It's like I can taste opportunity near._

_I cut myself on barbed wire, _

_Getting wood for the fire._

_I was too busy staring at you._

Of his various and sundry talents, Antinnis Tremayne excelled at waiting.

Generally, those who followed the path of the Dark Side were prone to rushing ahead, barreling forth with no sense of the things that they were passing, and thereby missing that most vital part of existence: the gathering of information. It was a tool more deadly than any lightsaber, more powerful than the most skilled combatant, and it was not to be acquired through hasty, reckless actions.

Although he was not yet thirty, High Inquisitor Tremayne had made it his prerogative to be the most well-informed agent of the still-fledgling Empire.

But it was not an easy task; there were a host of would-be spies and aggressors from those who identified their pitiful attempts at resistance as a 'rebellion.' It was arduous to have to sift through the minds of those he captured and interrogated to discern the truth behind the curtain of lies they each tried to cast over him. But Tremayne was exceptional at what he did, and generally had no issue – aside from the loss of his very valuable time – with gleaning truth from choked words.

No, it was not those lesser beings that he troubled himself with. The real threat came from the countless contestants for the slivers of favor that were doled out by the Emperor, namely his fellow Inquisitors, many of whom were almost as relentless as Tremayne himself. With the rumors of recent sightings of Altisian Jedi circling through the ranks of the loyal, tensions had been running higher than normal, and he knew that if he was to remain in his most-coveted position, he needed to keep several steps ahead of the others.

Which was why, when he watched the young Zeltron woman ignite her crimson blades - saber and _shoto -_ as she readied herself to spar, he smiled.

Even though she was only in her early twenties, Corliss was skilled beyond his wildest hopes. Psychometry was not a common gift, and her level of proficiency had astounded him, which was why he'd spared her life when she'd first refused to turn. From the first moment he'd seen her, Tremayne knew that she would be useful_;_ in the three years since he'd found her, sniveling in a muddy, backwater planet, cowering next to her weak Jedi teacher, he had not regretted his decision to spare her life. Initially, it had taken some skill to maneuver Corliss' attention away from the Jedi and towards him, to ensure that he was – in her eyes – the _only_ thing that mattered, but Tremayne's patience was only exceeded by his manipulative skills.

It had not taken him long to discern that he could break the young woman's will with violence, but common sense told him that such a thing would lead to a bitter end, as the recipient of the pain would be more likely to one day turn against the one who had inflicted it upon them. For Tremayne's purposes, he knew that he needed Corliss to be _his_, in mind, spirit and body, and that it was better to accomplish this without threats or physical marks. He could see the truth of the fact in her eyes when she watched him without trying to appear that way: the lust, the unfettered hope and affection that only a Zeltron was capable of retaining, even in the journey to the Dark Side.

It had taken three years, but things were progressing well.

"Master?" Her voice was hushed, reverent. If he inhaled, he could nearly taste the desire for him ebbing off of her in waves. Beneath the dark, ultrachrome armor, he could see her body quivering, as if echoing the hum of the sabers in her grip.

Modulating his voice to reach across the shadowed sparring room, Tremayne gave her a smile as he replied. "Just looking, Corliss. You are a lovely sight to behold, after so long an absence from Prakith."

Her head ducked and in the twin blades' glow he could see her cheeks flushing an even deeper pink. "Thank you, Antinnis."

Rather than respond he lunged, igniting his blade as he did so and feeling a note of satisfaction when she met him with her own strength. For a moment the energy blades hissed from the contact and he held her gaze with his own, using his height and strength to assert himself over her, then he darted back, his zeyd-cloth robe rippling behind him with the movement. Corliss followed without a thought, arcing her body through the air and coming to land in front of him in the direct manner she was so fond of. He blocked the saber and parried the _shoto_, then thrust forward with his blade, and the sparring began in earnest.

The Zeltron's movements were exuberant, wild. She struck at him with seemingly reckless abandon, throwing herself completely into the fight with the single-minded passion that had attracted him to begin with. Even as he watched her, he could see how much better she had become in the past few months; her movements appeared to lack control, but there was a fierce intent behind them, and he could feel her immersing herself in the Force. When she wanted to be, when she was focused on the fight and nothing else, she was an opponent to be reckoned with.

But still. He was stronger than she, and although he had taught her well, he had not taught her _everything_.

Lifting his hand, Tremayne sent burst of Force-energy towards his acolyte, watching with satisfaction as she stumbled back, momentarily stunned. He took advantage of her distraction and swung at her, putting all of his strength into the blow. For one moment her head shot up and he could sense her agitation, but it faded as she twisted out of the way of his blade, her feet barely touching the floor. She moved like a shade, ducking her head low and tucking her body into an almost-roll to avoid the bite of his saber, and was upright after an instant.

However, Tremayne was ready. While she moved, he'd angled himself so that he was upon her; when she came up, he was facing her, so close he could smell the sweat on her brow. His movements were intense. He thrust his saber towards her again and again, forcing her back, directing her to one of the obsidian columns that were spread about the room. He watched her arms tremble and knew she was growing fatigued, having spent most of her energy in the earlier part of the battle.

When her back hit the column, she let out a gasp and her eyes darted up to his; Tremayne angled his blade at her throat, the energy humming as if eager to sever her head from her body. "You are too impatient," he said in a low voice. "Impulsive and reckless. You must learn how to bide your time, wait for the right moment and then strike. You must learn to choose your battles."

Corliss' lips parted but he tilted the blade upwards, not allowing her to speak. "Your passion rules you, still, and if you continue to allow such a thing, your emotions will be your downfall. We Inquisitors are not Sith, after all, though we share many of their values. _You_ must be the ruler of your own passion, Corliss. Otherwise, you will fail me...and neither of us want that, do we?"

As he spoke, he kept the blade flush with her neck, while at the same time pressing his upper thigh against her hips, a light touch only, but one that – judging by the dilation in her eyes and the heady mixture of pheromones she was emanating – was inciting both _need_ and _desire,_ two sides of the same coin. It mattered not, as both would serve him well. It was a delicate balance that he kept with her, but he was not worried that he would slip.

"Corliss," he said, elongating the syllables of her name and watching her eyelids flutter when his breath caressed her face. "I have need of your skills once more."

Her eyes lit up; when she found her voice it was hoarse. "Yes?"

Tremayne watched her watching him, thinking that soon she would be completely his, and then there would be no one that could stand in his way. With a gifted psychometric working to achieve his ends, none of the other Inquisitors could compare; Corliss would help him to elevate his status and insure that he became indispensable. And she would do it happily.

"Despite your shortcomings, you have done well with the tasks I've given you, so far," he murmured. The blade was still at her throat, but she did not appear to even notice it, as even her lips were trembling while she looked at him, wholly engrossed in his words.

"But there is still much work to be done if the Inquisitorius is to truly become a significant power in the Empire. Djinn Altis is still alive, and because of him the Altisian Jedi that have plagued the Emperor and Lord Vader for so long are thriving. While they remain, our own potency is diminished."

As he spoke, he sent her a small flicker of sensation through the Force and smiled to himself as her eyes closed, briefly. Tremayne continued. "Other agents are searching for his followers, but I know that only you, Corliss, are capable of bringing Altis to me. Once you do so, you will have _all_ that you desire."

On the word "desire" he deactivated his saber and reached one hand up to skim her jaw. A soft noise sounded from her as her eyes closed, and she leaned into his touch. But he pulled away, watching with satisfaction as she seemed to tilt forward in an almost-stumble. Once she collected herself, she blinked once and nodded to him, deactivating her own sabers and crossing her arms before her chest as she bowed.

Tremayne inhaled once. The young Zeltron's pheromones added an electrical edge to the air with her excitement, and he had to remind himself – as he often did – that some meals were best enjoyed after a decent simmer. So he turned and left her, without another word.

* * *

While she sang, Zara tried to keep her attention anywhere but on Drake_. _She failed.

Beside her, Levy bent his hand over the frets of the dulcimer, his brow furrowed in concentration as he coaxed the song from its body; it was one they had practiced many times together. Kalinda had taught them the music but Zara had come up with the lyrics on her own. She knew her voice wasn't honey-sweet or even particularly resonant, but she could hold a pitch, which was – she'd decided some time ago – enough.

Levy, however, was a true artist. His fingertips danced over the strings, adding flourishes and melodies to the simple tune so that it would have been impossible to believe that it was only a single musician creating the sounds. The words ended and the melody took over, and for a few seconds Zara was just as enraptured as the rest of them, who were seated with jaws unhinged as they stared at the young man. When he finished, he looked up, blinking. Once he realized they were watching him, his head ducked and she felt ripples of surprise and embarrassment from him, and watched the tips of his ears redden.

She broke into applause first, the others following a moment later. The flush in his ears deepened and his eyes remained downcast. _Great job, Levy, _she thought, ensuring that the words reached his mind. _You're amazing with that thing. _

_Thanks, Zar,_ he replied in kind, before shooting her a wry look. _Shab...I didn't realize they were all going to clap. Am I supposed to bow or something? _

At that, she indicated Keo by picturing him in her mind, neatly-kept hair and all. _Maybe if you were a ham like him. Otherwise, I wouldn't worry about it. _

He smiled but did not reply further, as his brothers had approached him to laud his skills. Drake was among them, and for a few moments she studied him out of the corner of her eye. He'd grown up, as had all of the former cadets, but there was something about _him_ that would always differentiate the young man in her mind from his brothers. The passage of years had broadened his shoulders and smoothed away any vestiges of adolescent awkwardness. His arms, bare beneath a thin shirt, were sinewy and lean, and looked strong.

_Stop it,_ she told herself, looking down at her hands and taking a deep breath. _You closed that door, already._ A slip of calm made its way through her, and she found that she was able to raise her gaze to him once more.

This time, he was watching her, too.

As was her custom, she tried to read both his expression and the currents of emotion he was exuding, but – as often happened with him – she was unable to tell what he was feeling when he looked at her. It was as if there was a wall between them that she couldn't see around. The whole thing was stupid beyond words, she often felt, and she knew that she needed to just grow up and get over...whatever it was that she felt for him. What had passed between them was five years gone, ended at her request, no less, and she knew that it was not possible to change any of it.

Besides, she had her future to consider, not to mention the future of the Jedi, and both of those things were far more important than that odd, fluttering sensation in her stomach when she thought about Drake, or remembered the feel of his hand in hers, or the way he'd kissed her, so long ago.

So she gave him a brief nod and rose to sit with the other Padawans who had made their way to Mundali. They were kind, she supposed, if a bit solemn, but it had been like that with most Jedi she'd met, so it was not unusual. During one of the times she'd spent with Master Altis aboard his praxeum ship, the _Chu'unthor_, the Human had said that each Force-sensitive – members of the Agri-Corps, Padawans, and Jedi alike – who was rescued from the Empire was a small victory, and should be treasured. It was the only way that the Order would survive, he'd said. Every Force-user, everyone who dwelt on the Light Side needed protection, needed a haven against the Dark.

And although she knew that was true, too, she couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment when a certain, dark-haired young woman did not turn up among each new batch of survivors. Zara didn't want to think that her friend was dead, but the alternatives were too unpleasant to consider, so she often tried not to think of Corliss at all.

As she approached, Meriel smiled at her and shifted over on the blanket, making room for the blue-skinned Nautolan girl to take a seat. "You have a pretty voice," the Twi'lek said to her.

"He's not so bad, either," Tahirah, the blonde Human Padawan added, nodding to Levy, who was making a rapid series of hand gestures in response to his brothers' questions. Soon enough the clones made their way back to the blankets, and for a few minutes the group sat in a circle, passing the bottle of Corvala Gold amongst themselves to refill any empty cups and talking of inconsequential things.

Finally, the Rodian – Nert – lifted his head and looked at Risky. "Did you get to speak to Master Altis on your last mission?"

"Haven't seen much of him at all," the red-haired clone replied, glancing at the others. "Traxis won't admit it, but he's pretty worried about Altis."

"He should be," Nert replied with a frown. "The Emperor will track him down, eventually."

Zara sat up at this, pulling her knees up to her chest. "He stays here, sometimes. He's already moved most of the _Chu'unthor's_ information and equipment to Mundali – from what I hear, the praxeum ship is running on bare-bones."

It was a sad thought, as she 'd come to consider the _Chu'unthor_ like a surrogate Temple. After her family had first gotten settled on Mundali she'd requested to spend some time aboard the vessel to further her training and study in a more 'traditional environment.' Though she tried to pretend that it had nothing to do with Drake, a part of her knew that it was easier for her to be away while he was around, especially after they had agreed to 'just be friends.' However, she had enjoyed her time aboard the praxeum ship and learned so much, so in the end she supposed it had been for the best. It had lasted up until about a year ago, and she had not been back since, especially with how busy Mundali had become.

"You think this is a safe place?" Tahirah's voice was quiet, dark. All eyes turned to the blonde Human girl, who was seated cross-legged on Meriel's other side, elbows on her knees as she leaned forward.

"It's done a pretty good job keeping us safe for the past five years," Zara replied.

At this, Tahirah frowned and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "So far."

"But the Empire is relentless," Nert added, shaking his head. "They won't give up until every last Jedi is gone – turned to Dark Side, or..." He did not say the word _killed _but it lingered in the air, anyway.

Meriel shivered; from what Zara remembered she had not been found approaching near-death like the other two, though her story had been far from peaceful, and she'd refused to share much of it with anyone. From his place across from her, Keo gave the peach-skinned Twi'lek a gentle smile. "You're safe here, _Mer'ika_. I promise."

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Tahirah went on, sitting upright. The firelight from the torches caught in her hair, gilding it. "Without the Order, none of us are true Jedi any longer. It's illegal to even _have_ a lightsaber. Master Yoda would have said that the Altisians weren't real Jedi, anyway, because they can get married and have kids, so in a sense, the Emperor's already won."

A flare of indignation passed through Zara at these words. She bent her legs under her and sat up as straight as she could. "How can you say that? After everything that Kalinda and Master Altis have done...how can you say they aren't even real Jedi?"

The blonde girl shrugged and crossed her arms before her chest. "You don't understand, Zara. You've been living here, safe and cozy, while the rest of the galaxy falls to pieces. The Emperor tore up the Archives and Holocron vault...the Temple is empty, so many are dead and all of our knowledge is lost. How can _anyone_ be a Jedi right now?"

Zara wanted to reply, but her words got stuck in her throat. It was true; there was only so much she could do on Mundali, only so much she wanted to do. Helping the other Jedi that came through was the best part of her days, but it also served to remind her just how far-removed she was from the reality that the majority of them faced. She looked up at the stars and wondered how many other Force-users were out there, scared and alone, with no bright patch of hope in their vision, and felt her body sink, just a bit.

_How can anyone be a Jedi right now?_

Then Drake cleared his throat. "I'm certainly _not_ a Jedi," he began, his face molding into the serious expression he got when he was thinking over his words. His voice was deeper than she remembered. "But I don't doubt that's what Kalinda and the rest _are,_ no matter what some exiled, wrinkly former general says. Me and my brothers – and pretty much everyone here, I think – wouldn't be alive if it weren't for Jedi like her and Altis."

"There's more than one way to be a Jedi, Tahirah," Zara heard herself adding, casting Drake a hesitant smile that he returned after a moment. "That's one thing I've learned, anyway."

"But Tahirah has a point," Nert added, his antennae quivering. "_Nothing_ is how it used to be...what's going to become of us? How can we progress forward with no Masters to teach us and no Council to guide us? For that matter, who's going to hold our Trials? Are we going to be Learners forever?"

"Maybe we need to make our own way," Zara replied in a quiet voice.

"Our party wasn't exciting enough?" The sudden sound of an elder clone voice made them all jump, and in the corner of her eye, Zara noted that Keo shoved the bottle of liquor under his shirt when Stonewall and Traxis stepped out of the darkness.

Silently, she cursed herself; the Force-sensitive clone had grown adept at hiding his presence, and he must have done so for Trax as well. As of catching her thoughts, the former captain shot her a raised brow as Traxis crossed his arms and swept a sharp gaze over the group, though he said nothing.

He didn't need to. The younger clones were on their feet in an instant – Keo and Risky swaying a bit – and Zara had to bite back the urge to grin at the formality that was apparent in their stances, something that – she figured – ran bone-deep within them. Drake stepped forward. "Sorry, Stonewall. We just needed to blow off some steam."

"A transmission just came through," the elder clone replied, his voice quiet although there was a flare of worry from him at the words. "From Altis. We need to have a family meeting."

Zara straightened at this. "What happened?"

Traxis and Stonewall exchanged glances, then the former captain indicated the ship as he spoke to his brother. "Will you fly them back? I'll take the speeder we brought."

The scarred clone nodded, then looked at the group with narrowed eyes. "There's a speeder-bike missing. Who came in that?"

"Levy and I did," Zara replied, getting to her feet. She knew that the older clones were upset, but didn't think it was really because of the fact that she and the others had snuck off. "What's wrong? Something's wrong, isn't it?"

Stonewall did not answer her right away, a maddening trait he'd picked up from Kalinda. When he did speak, his voice was patient. "Have you had anything to drink from whatever it is that Keo's hiding?"

At the words, the young clone in question grimaced and pulled the bottle out from under his shirt, holding it out towards the former captain with resignation.

"I haven't," Zara replied as Stonewall lifted his hand and called the mead to him.

Traxis sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face before looking back at the others. "Sneaking off in the middle of the night? Really? What's gotten into you lot?" Indeed, he sounded upset, but Zara could sense that the feeling was indirect, distant. He was worried, but trying not to take it out on them.

"Let's get them back before we start lecturing," Stonewall murmured, putting a hand on Trax's shoulder. His tone was still dangerously calm, which did nothing to quell Zara's nerves.

* * *

Presently, the core of people that Levy had come to think of as his family were all seated along the tables that had been set up outside for the party; Kalinda and Stonewall's children were in bed, Tahirah, Meriel and the others had been sent off with the other inhabitants, so it was just Levy, his brothers, Zara, Kalinda, Stonewall, Ares, Traxis, Weave, Honi, Crest and Sita.

They were not a small group.

He shifted in his seat and glanced on either side of him. Honi's lips were pursed tight, while Weave seemed at ease, though Levy noted that his knee was bouncing as it often did when he was agitated. Levy could also see that the red-haired Jedi was upset, but he was glad that the bulk of the feeling wasn't directed at him.

Kalinda and Stonewall were at the head of the table. The dark-haired woman took a breath and regarded the rest. "Normally I'd want to reprimand you all for sneaking off and stealing alcohol, but there are far more pressing things on our collective plate right now."

Her husband held out a holo-transmitter and activated it, allowing the shimmering form of Master Djinn Altis to appear. Levy knitted his brows at the sight of the elderly man; it had been a long time since he'd seen the bearded Jedi, and he noted how much older he looked. How much more frail.

The recording began.

"_Kalinda_: _I know that by now, Ares and Traxis have most likely returned to you for a well-earned rest, but I'm afraid something of great importance has come up. Ares, I have need of you and your ship. As soon as you can, make way for Toydaria. I've sent you a series of coordinates at which to meet one of my agents, for there is a mission of utmost urgency, one that is of great importance to the future of the Jedi. _

"_I'm afraid that I cannot reveal much more than that in this message, should it be intercepted, but I will have more details once you arrive."_

The coral-skinned Twi'lek sat up and looked at Kalinda, his _lekku _twitching. "I can leave immediately."

"_We_ can leave immediately, you mean," Traxis added, and Ares gave him a warm look.

But Kalinda shook her head and indicated the transmitter, where the message was still playing. The pitch of Altis' voice had changed, softened, and even through the flickering image he looked – if it was possible – even more troubled as he continued to speak.

"_However, I'm afraid that bad news comes in pairs these days. Another situation has arisen that demands attention, though I am unsure what can be done about it, as my priority must be the mission to Toydaria. Ares, my dear friend: you know that I've been in contact with certain parties who have an interest in the fall of the Empire – your niece, Faye, among them."_

At this, the Twi'lek grew very still, and the recording continued. "_In addition to everything else, I've received word that Faye has gone missing. She was last seen in the custody of a band of Zygerrian slavers."_

The words hung in the air. Ares' eyes closed and Traxis put a hand over his, squeezing gently and murmuring something that Levy couldn't make out. Zara had paled, and Levy could see his brothers exchanging nervous glances as well. Beside him, Honi shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but she was silenced by a look from Kali, who indicated the transmitter.

"_It pains me to ask this of you, Ares, but I need yous and Traxis' help solely for the first assignment to Toydaria. Both of your skills are vital to that mission, and it is one that is ultimately for the greater good. Many lives are at stake."_

There was a pause, then he looked up, as if the recording was meeting their eyes. "_Should you be aware of anyone who can help Faye, I'm also sending the intel on her last known location._

"_May the Force be with you."_

The hologram flickered and died, filling the air with thick silence.

Kalinda took a breath. "Ares..."

"We have a saying on Ryloth," the Twi'lek said, his voice clear though he was gripping Trax's hand with pale knuckles. "'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.' I know that Djinn would not ask this if it were not essential."

"But your niece," Zara replied, shaking her head. "What will happen to her?" The blue-skinned girl gave a shiver, and Levy frowned as well.

Drake swallowed and leaned forward, his eyes on Stonewall. "She needs our help."

The dark-haired Jedi and her husband exchanged glances, and Levy could almost see their thoughts, but it was Weave who spoke in a quiet voice. "We're running full-throttle here as it is. There are so many wounded who depend on us. Unfortunately, it's just not feasible for any of us to leave." He sighed, and his implant blinked in the soft lights of the torches.

"We can do it," Risky said, sitting upright and gesturing to his brothers. "We even have a ship, thanks to Lev."

At this, the elders exchanged glances, though Honi and Traxis were already shaking their heads. The scarred clone, hand still gripping Ares', spoke. "No. It's too-"

"Dangerous?" Risky said with a scowl. "Come _on_, Trax. We can handle a bunch of spice-addled slavers. Don't act like you haven't trained us in every combat form imaginable...we're as close to you as anyone can be, after all."

"It's a big galaxy out there, _adi'ke_," the scarred clone replied, an undercurrent of agitation in his voice. "There's a lot you don't know."

Risky's scowl deepened. "There's only one way to learn, isn't there?"

However, he was prevented from speaking further with a hand on his arm as Drake sat up. "Risk is right about the ship, as you saw tonight, Traxis," he said in a quiet voice. "And I think I speak for us all when I say that we're sorry we snuck off...but we're tired of playing shuttle. We want to...to _do _something."

Weave tilted his head. "What?"

"Something," Drake repeated, making a helpless gesture with his hands. "_Anything_." Drake looked down at the table and it was silent for a moment save the cicadas, and the furious pounding of Levy's heart as he tried not to show his agitation at the thought of leaving the only true home he'd ever known.

Zara spoke next, her voice soft. "If they go, I want to go as well." Honi shot her a dark look, but the Nautolan girl shook her head. "Master...I've learned all I can from Mundali. It's lovely, here but...but there is _more_."

"Absolutely _not,_" Hopi replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "You are not ready to be on your own, Padawan."

"But-"

The red-haired Jedi scowled. "I said _no_, Zara. That's the end of it." Even as she said the words, Levy felt her tense beside him, and he saw Weave glance over at her with a raised brow. At the end of the table, Kalinda was studying her former Padawan as well, though eventually her gaze turned to Zara.

"What do you mean, 'there is more?'" The dark-haired woman's voice was quiet, and for a moment everyone leaned in to listen.

Zara frowned and cast a quick look at Honi before she answered. "You've all made a home here on Mundali. You do important work, and I'm glad that people like Nert and Tahirah have a place to go if they need sanctuary. But it's..." Her frown deepened and she seemed to falter for a moment, _lekku _trembling. "It's not where I need to be, right now. Everything is different than it once was, isn't it? It's not like I can request to undergo the Trials if I think I'm ready. I love it here, I do, but I don't think I can be the Jedi I need to be if I stay behind any more."

Honi leaned back in her seat with a heaviness that startled Levy; he felt Weave's hand reach around behind him to rest on Honi's shoulder with a light touch. Kalinda's eyes flicked to the exchange, but she kept the bulk of her gaze on the Padawan. "Where do you think you need to be? What do you think you have to do, to be a Jedi?"

"I don't know," Zara replied, shaking her head. "But I want to find out."

Her eyes fell on Honi and the two shared a look that Levy couldn't read, but he did note the almost imperceptible nod that the red-haired Jedi gave after a moment.

Keo, who'd been watching the exchange with an intense expression, glanced at Traxis. "So we'll have Zara with us...does that make you feel any better, _vod_?"

The scarred clone took a breath and glanced between Ares and Keo, then he looked at Stonewall. Levy noted that all of the elder clones seemed to share a collective glance, but he knew their expressions well, and a knot of agitation began forming in his gut. There would be more discussion, but for a moment it was as if he could see the end result of the things that had yet to occur: it was going to happen. His brothers and his best friend were going to leave, and they were going to want him to go, too...and he didn't want to consider the possibility that none of them would ever come back.

However, Levy didn't know if he could leave, or if he even wanted to.

Finally Traxis sighed again. "We'll make sure you have everything you need, _adi'ike_. And I don't think I need to tell you to be careful-"

"But you will, anyway," Risky broke in, sitting upright in his chair and looking from face to face. "Until you're blue in the face."

Finn's voice was uncertain. "So...it's okay? We can go?"

The adults exchanged glances again. Levy watched as Weave and Traxis frowned at each other while Crest gave a deep sigh; Stonewall looked thoughtful and Kalinda's expression was curious. A hint of a smile played on her mouth, though once she realized Levy was watching her, it smoothed. She cleared her throat. "None of you are prisoners here. In fact, out of everyone gathered, only Zara is bound by the Jedi Code to remain with her Master – but that's between you and Honi, Zar. As for you guys..." Her hands spread. "May the Force be with you."

* * *

_Brr...Tremayne is creepy, no? He was actually a lot of fun to write, as villains usually are. _

_So, obviously our heroes are about to set off on a grand adventure; we'll be on Mundali for one more chapter, then it's off to Zygerria. :) I promise the "plot stuff" will start soon. ;)  
_

_Thanks for reading! Reviews make my day, as I love knowing what y'all think so far! :D_


	6. Best Foot Forward

Song: "Sail Into The Sun," by the Funky Lowlives, from the album, Some_where Else Is Here._

* * *

**Chapter Five: Best Foot Forward**

_I could find a million ways,**  
**To escape into the haze.**  
**Let me sail into the sun._

At Kalinda's words, Levy's brothers broke into excited chatter, but he remained still. While the members of his family immediately began to make plans and argue amongst themselves, he laced his fingers in his lap and looked down at the scars that snaked across his left arm. In his mind he would never be like other Fett clones, no matter that he shared their face. Levy knew that he was different, that he was strange. Even now, while his brothers were brimming with excitement, he didn't feel as they did; the prospect of leaving the safety of his home didn't set his blood to racing with adrenaline – unless terror counted, which he didn't think it did.

So he sat among them and tried to at least look pleased, but the nanogene droids gnawed at him from the inside.

Later that night, he couldn't sleep. He could still feel the nanos beneath the surface of his skin, but resisted the urge to scratch at his arm. It was a nervous habit that was often aggrandized by vivid nightmares – sometimes he'd wake up in the morning to find the skin of his left arm raw and bloody from where he'd been scratching. Although he was awake now, his right hand kept creeping over to his left arm and he had to consciously still his nails as he mulled over the prospect of leaving the first – and only – true 'home' he'd ever known.

But, he reasoned, his brothers were 'out there' all the time, and he did worry about them. It was always difficult to let them go without him; even though he loved Mundali and felt safe here, he was happier when he was in their company. Sure, they would tease him, annoy him, and generally get on his nerves – as they all did to one another, at some point – but it was how brothers were supposed to act, wasn't it? When it came down to bare facts Levy was their brother, and when they were gone, he missed them.

Leaving would be horrible, but watching Drake, Keo, Risky and Finn on a mission – their first _real_ mission – without him...would it be worse?

Finally, when Levy grew too disgusted with himself to lie there and internally debate the issue any longer, he decided that if he was going to be awake then he was at least going to do something productive. So he slipped out of bed and out of the living quarters, making his way outside, through the darkness to the building that housed his and Weave's workroom; initially, he was thinking of checking on the generators that kept the homestead running, but in truth he had quite a few projects scattered around, any of which would be a sufficient way to pass the time.

Once he activated the lamps, the large workroom was brightly lit; various tables, desks and other surfaces were situated at intervals, atop which there were multitudes of devices and appliances in varying stages of working order. Minutes later he was hunched over an old holo-radio and his attention was lost in the maze of wires and emitters.

So it was with no small amount of shock that the quiet sound of Weave's voice startled him into dropping the radio, thereby undoing all of his work. "What's up, _Lev'ika_?"

Face hot, at first Levy couldn't look up at his elder brother, and they both bent to pick up the pieces of the radio that had scattered at his feet. Finally he sighed and lifted his head, meeting a gaze that could have been his own, save for the crescent-shaped patchwork of metal that curved around Weave's left eye. Setting the bits of wire and knobs back on the workstation, he lifted his hands. _Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd finish up a few things here. _

Nodding, Weave glanced at the radio, then his eyes fell on Levy's arm, on the slashes of red, angry skin. "Here," he said, indicating the desk in the corner where he kept his emergency medkit. "Let me get you some bacta for your arm."

They moved over to the desk and Levy held out his arm while Weave pulled out his medkit and began rifling through it for bacta swabs. Moments later, the younger clone felt the cool press of the gel against his burning skin, and he felt a tiny bit better. As Weave smoothed the healing substance over his arm, he spoke. "You had the nightmares again?"

_No, _Levy replied, moving his hands carefully so the movement wouldn't disturb the bacta application. _I'm just...restless, I guess. _

Weave nodded again, then glanced up at him, meeting Levy's eyes. "Excited about tomorrow? I know your brothers are."

No response came to Levy's mind, and he couldn't bring himself to give even a halfhearted nod. The nanos crawled beneath his skin but the bacta was soothing; finally he exhaled and shook his head.

"Are you scared of leaving?" The words were quiet, but steady. Weave had a way of making Levy feel safe; he had a vivid memory of his elder brother holding him close in the midst of fire and chaos, assuring him that all would be well. For over five years, Weave had been a constant in his life, offering support, guidance and love, and in that moment Levy realized that leaving _him _- not Mundali - would be the hardest thing he'd ever done.

So he raised his hands and made the motions that he knew Weave would understand. _I'm too different, _he replied, hoping to skirt the question. He lifted his left arm and flexed his hand, frowning as he did so. _And_ _it looks so bad. _

"Yes," Weave said, which caused Levy's eyes to widen. "You are different, Levy. Inside and out. But it's okay," he added with a smile, then reached up to tap his own cybernetic implant, one that he'd gotten around the same time that Levy had been 'modified.' It had been the thing that bonded them, in the beginning. "Being different isn't such a bad thing. We clones are adaptable, after all."

Even with a trace of humor, his voice was so gentle, and Levy bit back a wave of sorrow at the thought of leaving the one person who _understood_. So he shook his head and lifted his hands again. _Maybe. I guess I'm...not ready to go._

Weave nodded, then unexpectedly turned and made his way back towards the workstation where Levy had been initially, indicating that the younger clone should follow. They approached the long table and Weave rooted around for a few moments before making a noise of satisfaction and pulling out a small, oblong-shaped holo-cam, which he handed to Levy. As the younger clone began to examine the device, Weave spoke. "I know how you feel. I know what it's like to doubt yourself because of how different you think you are on the outside, but Lev..."

He paused here and placed a hand on Levy's left arm, where the itching had started again. Levy met his elder brother's eyes and saw only strength and kindness within. He saw home. "I've watched you overcome something that would have broken most people. It nearly broke me, but not you.

"In fact, you've come out the other end, stronger." He moved his hand to grasp Levy's shoulder and gave a squeeze, still holding the younger clone's gaze. "You _are_ strong, Levy, and brave. And it may not mean much in the grand scheme of things, but you have my respect and trust...and my love, _vod_. I know that you'll be okay."

Levy ducked his head, too overcome to make a reply. Beyond them, the generators hummed a soft melody as they provided energy for the Mundali homestead; glancing down, he felt the weight of the holo-cam in his hand. Finally he sighed and glanced at Weave, setting the cam on the table before lifting his hand to reply. _I'd miss this place, but I'd miss you, more, _vod_._

At this, Weave gave him an almost sad smile. "I know it's hard, Lev. But I also know _you_. And while I can't say I won't worry for you, I really do think that this is the best thing for you to do, right now. Besides," he added, raising a brow. "Are you telling me that you worked so hard on that ship to just watch it fly away without you?"

It was a true statement that he actually had not considered, and even though he knew that Weave was just trying to nudge him in a certain direction, Levy realized that he did want to see the Deep-X put through its paces. So he reached for the cam again, and carefully slid it into the pocket of his sleep-pants before looking back at Weave. _It's cold in space. I think I can hide the arm...if you have a jacket I can borrow?_

"Sure do, _Lev'ika_," Weave replied without hesitation, before reaching forward to embrace the younger man in a firm hug. "But I do have one favor to ask of you," he added when he released Levy.

_Which is?  
_

His elder brother gave him a grin and nodded to the cam in Levy's pocket. "If you see something interesting, take a picture for me, okay?"

* * *

Dawn had not yet arrived when Drake was awakened by a soft rap against the door of his room; moments later, after he'd stumbled out of his bed and opened the old-style, rattlebang door, he was rubbing his eyes as Stonewall stood before him, arms folded before his chest with a faint smile on his face. "Morning, _vod_," he said in a genial voice, as if he had no idea that he'd woken the younger man. "Sleep well?"

"Is this punishment for sneaking off last night?" Drake tried not to let a yawn punctuate the question, but failed.

Stonewall's smile widened, then he thumbed in the direction of the nearest exit, a door down one of the corridors within the building. "Come on." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and slipped down the dark hallway, and Drake – after grabbing his boots – followed.

"Where are we going?" After some stumbling and hopping, he'd managed to slip the boots on, and soon enough they were moving at a brisk trot across the clearing before the settlement. The sky was still a deep indigo, but Drake could see a faint smudge of light on the horizon, and above their heads he could make out the morning stars.

Rather than reply right away, the former captain cast him a glance; moments later they had reached the canopy. Stonewall slowed his pace here, as it was still difficult to see in the muted dimness of pre-dawn, and once they were walking down one of the jungle paths he spoke. "When was the last time you meditated?"

Guilt sliced through Drake at the question and he pretended to have keen interest in the surrounding brush as he considered his answer. "A while. Too long, I guess. But I can still keep my thoughts from Zara," he added, glancing up at his elder brother. "Just as you taught me."

Stonewall nodded. "So, I take it that your feelings for her haven't changed?" Drake shook his head, but said nothing. After a few moments the older clone spoke again. "Let them go, if you can. Try to move on."

"And if I can't?" Drake asked, as the elder clone's tone was strangely uncertain.

For one moment Stonewall's gaze grew distant as he took in the jungle around them, then he glanced back at Drake. "Try to live with it, _vod'ika_. It'll be hard, and it'll likely hurt, but if what she wants isn't you, then you must respect that choice."

Even though he knew it was good advice, the words left traces of regret in his mind, and Drake tried not to sigh, tried to keep his gaze on the path ahead. Their passage made little sound as they moved across the loamy forest floor, taking a route that Drake knew would lead them to one of the larger hills in the area. Around them, the jungle was just barely starting to lighten; when he inhaled, Drake could taste a sweet, cool tinge to the air, and in the distance he could hear an early trickle of birdsong.

Thankfully, the former captain said nothing more and they traveled in silence for a few more minutes, stopping only when Stonewall indicated a suitable spot. It was one of the places in the jungle that gave way to a broad expanse open sky, the ground beneath which was littered with ancient ruins, older than anything the group had found elsewhere, and it was here that Stonewall and Drake settled down.

As Drake straightened his back and was preparing to begin, the elder clone gave a deep inhale. "Before I became Force-sensitive – before I met Kali, even – if someone had suggested that sitting still and _breathing_ would serve any real purpose, I would have laughed in their face. Meditation is pretty far-removed from anything they taught us on Kamino."

"Yeah," Drake said with a chuckle. "It wasn't exactly in the long-necks' lesson plans. But it does...help," he added, glancing down at his folded legs. A few slender shoots of grass had started to sprout, and he plucked at them idly.

Stonewall smiled as well. His back was straight, his legs were folded, and he looked...calm. Restful. There was something about the older clone that had always struck Drake as being _wise_, even when hew knew that the former captain would never admit to such a thing. "It does help. You remember right after we first arrived here, when we first found out Kali was pregnant?"

"Can't really forget that," Drake replied, shaking his head. It had been a harrowing month, surprise pregnancy notwithstanding, filled with possessions, spirit attacks, and all sorts of metaphysical weirdness that he didn't quite understand, even five years later.

"Right," Stone said with a grimace. "I don't have to remind you how frightened I was for my wife and for our unborn child. Meditation allowed me to gain a sense of calm amidst the storm, so that I could figure out how to best handle the situation – it was a far cry from a clanker-fight, after all – and most of the time I was at a loss. But when I stopped and meditated, even for a little bit...it helped clear my head."

Drake nodded, but said nothing. Despite the insanity, those first few weeks on Mundali had been some of the happiest times in his life, partly because it was the first time that Zara had truly let her guard down around him, that he realized how deeply he cared for her, and that it was mutual. And they had kissed. The memory of that night by the spring, surrounded by flickering fireflies was one of his best and his worst, because he knew that they could never go back to how it was. Not now.

As if sensing his thoughts – which was, he supposed, entirely possible – Stonewall spoke again. "You can't keep the negative feelings at bay, Drake. If you try, it will be a fight that you lose. But you can control how they affect you. Allow them to come, acknowledge them, and then let them go."

His voice had gone quiet, and for a few minutes they sat in silence, but neither one had taken to meditating just yet.

Finally Drake glanced up at his elder brother. "You and Kalinda have been through so much together...how did you..." He frowned and pulled up another blade of grass as he thought over the words. In his fashion, Stonewall waited for the younger clone to continue. "Even before you were married, even before you knew that you loved her...how did you know that it was 'right?' That by her side was where you were supposed to be?"

Stonewall gave a small shrug. "I didn't, Drake, not for certain. Initially, I thought that I was just physically attracted to her, and nothing more. But later..." He exhaled and his eyes turned towards the horizon, towards the edges of light that were starting to peek up across the canopy. "The more I was with her, the more I realized that I cared for her in a bigger way than just attraction. But, with that realization came other things."

Here, he gave Drake a pointed look. "It was – and still is – terrifying to be in love with a Jedi. So much power is in their hands, most of which I never understood until I became sensitive to it. There is much potential for harm, as much as there is for good_. _Things are never simple with them, never easy, and there were many times where I doubted myself, where I thought 'if this ends, it will end badly for both of us.'

"But ultimately...I'm happy with my choices. The path of my life is one I never could have imagined, but I'm thankful every day that things turned out as they did. I'm thankful that I was able to stand by her side, and I'm grateful that we've been able to shape our lives together."

He sounded so certain, the calm tenor of his voice resonating with the more insistent calls of the dawn birds that were beginning to meander through the leaves, and Drake was seized with doubt. What shape was his own life supposed to take? What was he supposed to be?

"We were taught on Kamino to follow orders," Stonewall added, his eyes on the horizon. "Even as command-units, we were instructed to obey our superiors at all costs, to follow even as we led. But the Wars are over, _vod_, and there's only one person that you need to listen to."

It was practically a riddle, which Drake found strange, because normally Stonewall was quite direct. However, the elder clone glanced at him and reached out, poking his index finger into Drake's chest. "You have to find your own way, Drake. You and I have many things in common, but never forget that you are your own man."

"I guess. Just wish I knew who that was." Drake didn't realize that he'd murmured the words aloud until they'd left his mouth. In response, Stonewall closed his eyes and began to breathe in slow, deep measures. For a moment Drake watched the older clone, casting his mind back to last night's party; he and Kalinda looked happy and content, even as they struggled to contain and feed their squirming kids, and a brief flash – so very brief – of himself and Zara in a similar situation crept into his mind, only to be immediately dismissed as silly fantasy.

So Drake inhaled in a long, slow draw and closed his eyes against the coming dawn, trying once more to clear his mind.

Later, when morning had arrived in earnest, Stonewall and Drake made their way to the makeshift spaceport that had been fashioned in a large field nearby the homestead. Dirt and grass had been cleared away and replaced with gravel, atop which several ships – including the unnamed Deep-X and Ares' transport, the _Stark Raven – _were standing by. Presently, Traxis was helping Risky and Keo load up the Deep-X with various supplies, while Crest, Ares, Finn and Levy were crowded on top of one of the wings, working over one of the engines. The sound of his brothers' chatter instantly set Drake at ease, and he found his steps quickening as he approached them.

"Glad you could join us at last," Risky called out as he brushed his hands off on his pants. "Grab a crate, will you?"

"Actually," Ares called out from his place atop the wing of the lithe ship. "Now that you are all here, I have something that you will need, once you find my niece." The coral-skinned Twi'lek clambered down the wing, Levy and Finn in his wake, and within moments the group was assembled before the slender craft. Ares cleared his throat and glanced at each of the younger clones, his normally genial gaze serious. "The Taboras are not all like me," he began. "In fact, of my entire clan, I'm only aware of two of us who chose to leave Ryloth and make our way into the galaxy – myself, and Faye. Her parents..." He paused here, and looked uncertain, before pulling out a small, tattered flimsi from his jacket pocket, handing it to Finn before he continued.

"My sister Clio and her husband Elpenor are good people, but they have never supported Faye's...predilection for traveling. They are herders, you see. They raise and breed rycrits for the creatures' meat, and it is a good life for the two of them...but Faye has always wanted more." He paused, and Drake got the sense there was more to the story than the Twi'lek was letting on, but Ares chose not to speak of it; instead, his eyes fell on the picture as it passed from Finn's hands to Keo's, who tried not to look _too_ interested.

Traxis spoke next. "I met her, a few years ago. She's pretty good with a rifle. Great with tinnies," he added, the tone of his voice suggesting he wasn't quite sure what to make of the information.

Nodding, Ares continued. "She is intelligent and brave, but she's also...a bit reckless. More than once she tried to run away from my sister's home, and each time Elpenor and her brothers brought her back. Clio watched me leave when we were younger, saw the life that I was forced into at a young age, and – I think – feared the same end for her daughter. Obviously, her fears were not unfounded, and even though I managed to get out of slavery, it wasn't easy." He took a deep breath.

The picture was passed from Keo to Levy, then to Risky. Ares continued. "As Faye grew older, she grew more canny and found many ways to try and leave home, but always...my brother-in-law managed to bring her back; Clio would say that she's willful and independent, and perhaps that is true, but in any case, Faye is...distrustful of those she thinks are trying to control her. It was why I was not at all surprised to hear that she had taken up with the Rebellion, and found a way to leave Ryloth for good."

Risky handed the picture to Drake, who studied it with care. It was a normal-enough looking Twi'lek family: a coral-skinned woman with a bright smile, whom he assumed was Ares' sister, a blue-skinned, older male and two younger ones, Faye's father and brothers, he guessed. Among them was a girl with large, brown eyes and deep violet skin, frowning into the cam. She was pretty, he supposed, as most of her race were, but beyond that he couldn't have said much. It was just a pic, after all, and a weathered one at that. He handed it back to Ares, who tucked it back into his pocket, his hand lingering on the area for a moment before he spoke again.

"I have not seen Faye in person in some time, but we have spoken over the comm on many occasions," Ares said. "When she was younger, there was a holo-book that we would read together – I purchased two copies and sent her one, while I kept the other: _The Misadventures of Kep, the Toothless Rycrit._" He chuckled at the clones' bewilderment, then shook his head, _lekku _swaying. "They weren't terribly popular among other younglings, but Faye loved them...

"I'm telling you this because when you find her, very likely she will not trust you, even though you claim to be friends. You may mention my name, which should help...but I wanted to give you something else to tell her, so that she will know for certain that you mean her no harm."

With that he sighed and glanced down, hands tightening at his sides. Traxis squeezed Ares' shoulder in a comforting manner, then glanced at his younger brothers. "See that you bring her back in one piece, _vodi'ke_. We'll try to check in with you as much as we can, but you'll be on your own for most of the time."

Crest cleared his throat, causing everyone to glance his way. Unexpectedly, his face tightened into an expression of fear, though it was hastily smoothed away, replaced with his usual joviality. "Be careful, be safe, but most of all, don't be stupid."

"Crest is right," Stonewall spoke up, causing the younger clones to turn to him. The sun was already starting to climb across the sky, making the surrounding air hot and uncomfortable, but the group was situated beneath the shade of the ships, and there was still a trace of nighttime cool in the breeze that slipped beneath Drake's shirt.

"I know that you are aware of the importance of Mundali, and of its secrecy, and of the care we've taken to see that such a thing is not jeopardized." Stonewall's face grew hard, almost frightening. "There are so many here whose lives depend on the planet's hidden nature, our family among them. You cannot – under _any_ circumstances – do anything that would put Mundali's location, or even its existence, at risk. Is that clear?"

It was. Drake and his brothers nodded, and he felt a shiver despite the heat of the day. After a few moments of tense silence Traxis sighed and indicated the _Raven. _"Alright lads; we helped with yours, now it's your turn to help with ours. Come on, men. Let's get to work."

* * *

Before she left what was most certainly her home, Zara had wanted to take one last swim.

However, she was not able to do so until later that afternoon, the day before she and the others were supposed to leave. While Risky, Keo, Finn, Levy and Drake spent the day with their elder brothers and Ares, prepping the ships and loading up supplies, Zara had worked in the infirmaries with Honi, Weave and Kalinda. She had her share of patients, after all, whose care she needed to arrange for in her absence.

It was the best part of her job on Mundali, healing the sick and wounded that came through, and she felt guilty for leaving when there was so much work to be done here, even though in her heart she felt that she was making the right choice.

But it still hurt.

Finally, hours after the midday meal, Zara was able to get away, Honi, Sita, and Kalinda accompanying her, along with Kali's children, Milo and Kamala, both of whom practically raced the entire way to the spring. After a short journey they reached the area, and as Zara watched Kalinda and Sita rush after the kids – who'd made a beeline for the water – she felt a strange pang of _longing_ within her heart, as if she missed home already, although she hadn't left yet.

The spring was one of her favorite places in the galaxy. Cool water, a richer shade than her own skin, filled the basin; mottled, ivory limestone rested along the shoreline, creating a natural ledge where one could sit and dangle one's legs for hours as light from the canopy filtered down and cast rippling patterns on the water's surface. Pale sand curved around one edge, leading into the shallower section of the spring – which was where Kali and Sita had managed to grapple the children towards – and the air was replete with the sound of wind upon leaves, and the ubiquitous buzzing of cicadas.

Among other things.

Kalinda finally convinced Milo and Kam to _stop_ screaming and play nicely – and _quietly_ – with one another, and soon enough the children were seated on the shore near the adults and Zara, building an elaborate structure out of mushy, wet sand. Zara and Honi had taken up seats on the limestone edge; Kali and Sita joined them and for a few minutes it was peaceful.

After some time, the white-haired Arunai woman cast a curious look at the Jedi. "Last night, a term was mentioned that I am unfamiliar with," she said in her gentle, lilting accent. "'The Trials?' What does that mean, if I may ask?"

"The Trials used to be the way that a Jedi hopeful moved from being a Padawan Learner to a full-fledged Knight," Kalinda explained. "It was a series of tests generally performed by members of the Jedi Council, though sometimes a Padawan could pass a portion of the Trials by having undergone a particularly harrowing mission or experience. Me, for example," she added, lifting up her left knee so that everyone could see the knotted scar that remained over the curve.

"You got that when your master was killed," Zara said, furrowing her brow.

Kali nodded. Her fingertips traced the scar for a moment before she spoke again. "The injury was bad enough such that I shouldn't have been able to use the knee again. It was recommended that I get a prosthetic, but I refused, instead choosing to work with a bum knee. I had no idea at the time, but Master Windu – who took over my training – determined that would be my Trial of the Flesh, one of the five aspects of the Trials."

At this, Honi shook her head, but said nothing. Kalinda shot her a raised brow, but it was Sita who spoke again. "I am afraid I don't understand...how does suffering an injury make one prepared to become a Jedi Knight?"

Beyond them, Milo and Kam had finished their sand-castle, and were presently digging a moat around the outer edge. Kali watched them as she replied in a quiet voice. "A Jedi's life will be filled with darkness, Sita. There will be pain. There will be suffering. Only those who can withstand the rigors of such a life are permitted to become Knights...the Trials were the Order's way of determining each being's potential as a Jedi."

Zara leaned forward, fascinated. "Honi...what about your Trials? You've never told me about them."

She expected Honi to scoff and tell her that such a thing was inconsequential, that instead she should turn her mind to other matters. She was not expecting the red-haired Jedi's face to close and her eyes to drop to her pale legs, dangling in the water below. For a few minutes there was silence, save for the soft burble of laughter from the kids, and Zara wondered if she'd said something wrong. Finally Honi shook her head. "They were Trials, Zara. They were difficult. Dangerous. But I managed. Can we talk about something else, please?"

Something like frustration skimmed across the top of Zara's mind, and she sat up, keeping her eyes fixed on her master. "Am I that terrible of a Padawan that you don't even want to talk about the Trials with me? I thought I'd come a long way in five years."

Rather than give a curt reply, Honi's shoulders sank, and she looked away, blinking up towards the canopy. Out of the corner of her eye, Zara noticed that Kalinda and Sita exchanged glances, but she didn't much care about that at the moment, because all of a sudden she felt as if she were thirteen again, clinging on her new master's every word and fretting because she just wasn't _good_ enough to please the irascible Human woman. However, as she was about to add something else, Honi sighed and glanced over at Zara again, and there was remorse in her eyes.

"Zara, you are very skilled," she began, placing her hands in her lap and sitting up straight. "But you are young, yet, and still have much to learn. And I'm..." Honi frowned here, and her cheeks colored slightly as though she was embarrassed to even admit it, but then she finished. "I'm worried for you."

"As you should be, I think," Kalinda added, glancing at her children again. "We live in dark times, don't we? Even though it feels so far away from our lives here. But one thing I learned from training you, Honi, is that at some point the teacher has to admit that they've done all they can do for the student, and the student has to make her own way."

The dark-haired woman frowned for an instant, and her chest lifted in a heavy sigh although the expression fled, replaced with a wry smile. "I hear it's similar with one's children, but I'm trying not to think too much about that part just yet."

Honi nodded at this, and exchanged another look with Zara. Her face was softer, but there was still uncertainty behind her eyes, emanating from her aura. "I suppose that's true."

"I think you will be a fine Jedi, Zara," Sita said suddenly, giving the Nautolan a warm look. "I am not an expert in these matters, but I daresay I've known a few Jedi, and you compare rather favorably." She lifted her brow at Kalinda, who laughed and rolled her eyes.

"However," Sita continued, the tone of her voice shifting into solemnity. "I have firsthand knowledge of the fact that the Imperials are a force to be reckoned with. Their handling of my homeworld was only the beginning...in the interim I have watched the Emperor's cruelty and greed expand a thousandfold, covering innumerable systems."

Beyond them, Kamala and Milo had finished their moat and were now attempting to create an aqueduct of a sort from their structure to the spring, urging the water to slosh around the lumpy sand-fort and shrieking with laughter in the process. The sunlight rippled off of their dark hair as their heads bent over the sand, and the sound of their voices filtered through the hum of insects, but Zara felt a chill nonetheless at the former queen's words, and more so when the Arunai woman continued. "The Emperor is relentless, and his agents will stop at nothing to achieve his ends."

The women were quiet for a few moments, watching the children. Finally Kalinda spoke, nodding slowly. "That's why Mundali is so important. With so few Jedi out there, we're the largest concentration of lightside Force-users in the galaxy, and it's vital that we remain hidden. Keeping Mundali safe is imperative to the future of the Jedi, if there is to be one."

Zara swallowed. Nervousness made her _lekku_ tremble but within her mind, the gentle impulsion of the Force urged her along, drawing her onward as though carried by a river's current. _This is the way it should be._ "I understand, Kali," she said at last. "But I know that this is what I need to do. Thank you for teaching me what you have," she added, ducking her head. "I'm very lucky to have had you, Stonewall and Master Altis-"

As she spoke, the younglings started shrieking all of a sudden, the shrill sound followed by copious splashing noises. Kalinda and Sita rose at once and rushed to them, as they had each started using the Force to levitate and hurl orbs of spring-water at one another. Almost instantly, Kalinda and Sita were both soaking wet, and Zara couldn't help but laugh as they urged the kids out of the water and back towards the shore, where the sand-fort had been demolished by dozens of tiny footprints.

Suddenly, Honi had shifted closer to her, and was looking at the blue-skinned girl in earnest. "All the galaxy will be your enemy, so it's imperative that you remember what you've been taught. Be safe, be careful, be clever...and don't forget to meditate."

The very last thing Zara expected at this point was an awkward but firm embrace, as Honi swept her up into a hug, gripping the younger woman's shoulders tightly. But nothing shocked the Nautolan more than her next words.

"And...have fun," Honi added in a soft voice, before she pulled back and gave Zara a knowing look, and for one moment Drake's face rose to the surface of her mind, and Zara wondered if her feelings for him were that transparent, despite how much she tried to think otherwise.

Honi's next words seemed to confirm the feeling. "But not _too_ much." A faint smile curved her mouth.

Zara could think of no suitable reply, so she only nodded, and tried to think of something else besides honey-brown eyes and strong arms around her; eventually she and Honi rose to join Kali, Sita and the kids, and Zara found that she was able to forget everything else for the rest of the afternoon. Later that night she packed what she needed, and ate dinner surrounded by her family for what she hoped was not the last time.

Before first light the Deep-X was breaking the atmosphere, headed off into the black swathe of space, taking her along with it.

* * *

_And they're off..._

_This chapter wasn't in the first draft of the story. I have a tendency to barrel through the drafting phase, and as I was writing I was also anxious to be off of Mundali. Upon a later read-through, however, it felt like a little bit of "closure" was needed, in addition to some more preparation for our heroes as they began their quest. _

_Next up: Zygerria...  
_

_Thanks for reading! :) _


	7. Out Of Reach

Song: "How Come," by Ray Lamontagne, from the album _Trouble_.

* * *

**Chapter Six: Out Of Reach**

_The pistol now is prophet,  
The bullet – some kind of lord and king.  
But pain is the only promise that this so-called savior is going to bring.  
Love can be a liar,  
And justice can be a thief,  
And freedom can be an empty cup from which everybody wanna drink._

Everything went pretty smooth, at first.

Drake supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, as he and his brothers – even Levy – were fairly used to the mechanics of starship piloting and galactic navigation, but this was different. For one thing, they were on their _own _ship. From his place standing behind the pilot's seat, he ran his eyes over the console where Levy was seated, feeling his shoulders relax as he watched his brother's concentration over the proximity sensors. Even though they were tunneling through hyperspace, there was always a chance of being ambushed when they slipped back into realspace.

"Nice work with the transponder codes, Lev," he said. "Hopefully all those upgrades you made will keep us under the radar, at least until we get to Zygerria."

From behind him, Risky let out a sigh, and Drake heard the click of weapons being assembled. "And how much longer will that be? We've been flying for almost two kriffing days."

"Relax, Risk," Keo said from his place beside the red-haired clone at one of the fold-out seats along the bulkhead. "This thing can haul _shebs; _we'll be there soon." However, despite his easy tone, Drake could hear the worry in his voice, something that they could all relate to.

In his fashion, Finn voiced their thoughts from his place at the helm. "I'm worried about her, too." None of them had ever met Ares' niece, but the idea of even a peripheral member of their family being in danger was enough to make the clones give a collective grimace. Finn leaned to one side to glance at the nav, then nodded. "But we're making really good time," he added, his tone filled with admiration. "The ship is really powerful, Lev."

Levy's hands fluttered, forming his reply. _Thanks, but I think the dual-hyperdrives have more to do with it than anything I did. _

Finn gave him a soft smile. "Yeah, but you did most of the work. I couldn't believe she was the same ship that I managed to get Trax and Ares to tow in last year. I wish I'd gotten to help more."

_Plenty of work still needs to be done, _Levy replied with a shrug. _The cannons are funny. For some reason, Weave didn't like the idea of me testing them out too much while we were dirtside, and it seemed a waste to fire at nothing from atmo. And she still needs a name._

"What do you mean, 'the cannons are funny?'" Drake asked, straightening.

Levy furrowed his brow and glanced over the console. _The guns stick, sometimes. Get jammed up with corrosion...I think the heter valves are kind of old, but I never got a chance to get in there and dig around. _At Drake's look of frustration he lifted his hands in a helpless gesture before signing: _What did you expect? We had to leave in a hurry. _

But before Drake could reply, a familiar figure stepped out of the rear of the ship, and he felt his words get lost inside his brain as Zara approached the helm to stand next to him. For a moment he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, then he happened to glance her way and realize – with no small amount of surprise – that she was tense, too. But awkwardness was to be expected, he supposed; between her Jedi training and his missions with his brothers, they had not seen much of each other in the past several years, and while they were on Mundali...well, there was a whole planet to avoid one another, wasn't there?

Stonewall had been right, of course. Being near her now was difficult, and it did hurt. Perhaps, he reasoned, as he passed more time in her company, he'd grow used to the feeling, maybe even learn to live with it. Or try to.

So Drake focused on the mission and continued carefully shielding his thoughts from the Nautolan girl. In the interest of moving on, he cleared his throat and glanced at her. "How was your meditation session?"

Dark, almost-black eyes looked back at him. "Not bad," she replied, hugging her arms to her sides. The deep indigo coat she wore contrasted with her pale blue skin and he caught a glimpse of her lightsaber tucked at her hip. "How's it going out here?"

Her voice was calm, professional, and he nodded inwardly. Thinking back to her behavior at the party, he figured that she was as uncomfortable as he was, but nothing had changed between them. She'd made no overtures of anything besides friendship. They were both making efforts to act normal.

Maybe the realization should have set him at ease, but he didn't have time to reflect on it, as the proximity alarms began to blare. Levy leaned forward and flipped a series of switches on the console before his eye widened at the readout.

But it was Zara who spoke. "Imperials? Levy...you're sure?"

Before Drake could question _how_ she knew such a thing, as Levy's hands had not lifted to form his kind of speech, the entire ship jolted to one side, tossing everyone save Levy and Finn, who were buckled down, into the nearest bulkhead; the wind was knocked out of Drake's lungs as his back slammed against the wall, and again as Zara careened into him. However, he hardly had time to notice, as the bright swathe of light beyond the viewport dimmed, indicating that their vessel was merging back into realspace.

Which turned out to be _very _bad news, as the crew was greeted by the sight of a rather imposing-looking Star Destroyer.

"Kriff!" Risky yelled, clambering out of Keo's legs where he'd been tangled. "Get to the guns!"

"Are you insane?" Keo replied, his voice shaking as the ship started to shudder. "Even if our guns _did_ work, there's no way we could out-blast the Imps, Risk."

"Tractor-beam," murmured Zara. She and Drake exchanged a look and he realized that her curves were pressed along the length of his body. She seemed to realize it, too, as she flushed a dark blue and pulled away from him so that they could both see what was happening. Indeed, they were being pulled towards the massive, V-shaped ship. Over the comm, a smooth, mechanical voice began to speak, something about a 'routine inspection' and 'unidentified cargo,' but no one paid it any mind.

Clearing his throat, Drake frowned at the Imperial ship. "Can we break out of the hold?"

Finn glanced at Levy, whose hands were working furiously as he signed. After a moment, the long-haired clone nodded. "It's got us, but we can still get away. If we can keep out of the main section of the beam, if the engines keep up their hard work, if we can out-maneuver them..." Words trailed off as he began to turn the craft away from the Imperial ship. Suddenly he glanced at Drake, his face creased with worry. "You're a better pilot than me, _vod._" The implication in his words was clear.

Before the sentence had left Finn's mouth all the way, they'd switched seats. Without even taking the time to strap himself down and paying no heed to the exclamations of the others as he did so, Drake grabbed the controls and moved the ship into a dizzying spiral, noting with satisfaction when the display indicated that then beam's hold on the Deep-X had been broken.

For now.

Any minute, Drake knew the Imps would probably start firing, but he hoped that the Deep-X would be long gone by that point. Their own vessel's engines were powerful, and with a skilled pilot at the helm it was possible to avoid the grip of a tractor-beam; however, it was not easy. While Levy attempted to lock onto a safe set of coordinates for them to jump to, Drake was forced to put in every bit of piloting know-how he'd picked up from Ares, along with what had been coded into him.

Much of his skill came naturally – well, as natural as anything the Kaminoans had bred into the clones came, anyway – but many of his tricks he'd learned from spending long hours at the helm of the _Stark Raven _with the coral-skinned Twi'lek. Ares had once jokingly said that piloting was simple, as long as one could be both careful and reckless, clever and foolhardy, and if one concentrated and let go...it was then, the Twi'lek had chuckled, that the impossible could be achieved.

Right. Just that space around the unnamed Deep-X began to shudder with blaster-fire, so Drake exhaled and tilted his hands, feeling a thrill as the ship moved with him and more distance was put between them and the Imperials' guns. A glance at Levy's console. "How's it look? Can we jump yet?"

Sweat had beaded at his brother's forehead, his hands were trembling as they signed, but he was nodding. _We're set. Go for it._

"Everybody hang on," Drake shouted over his shoulder as he prepped for another dizzying roll to avoid the cannon fire. "We're almost out of this..."

Their ship spun. It twisted out of the way as the Imperial vessel continued its attempts to disable them, but it didn't matter, because in the next moment – almost the instant that Drake righted the ship – Levy had punched the nav and they were gone, into the thick swathe of space.

* * *

Among its multiple charming attributes, Tully decided that the Zygerrian market stank like the vile end of a womp-rat.

As the former ARC lieutenant waited for the merchant to finish examining the items he'd presented for trade, he was at once thankful and irritated that he couldn't see; thankful, because he knew from description that the market was not a thing of beauty, and irritated because...well...being robbed of his sight six months ago hadn't exactly been in his life-plan.

Of course, he figured that no Fett clone – from commander to grunt – really ever had a life-plan besides 'shoot the clankers and try not to die while you do it.'

Even though his army days were long since behind him, the clone gave a snort of indignation at the thought. It had taken him six long months, a seemingly endless struggle, but he finally felt like he was something of his old self, even though at times he felt like he was lost in more ways than one without his sight.

But life – especially genetically-shortened life – was too valuable to spend mired in unnecessary regrets and bitterness, and besides, Tully had enough of both of those things without adding anger at his...disability to the list.

To distract himself, he turned his face to the Zygerrian merchant with whom he was dealing. "You almost done? I'm not getting any younger."

There was a clinking sound and Tully detected that the halpiton circuits he'd brought to trade were still on the booth's surface; though he couldn't see them, he trusted his ears. Indeed, the rough, gravelly voice of the merchant sounded a moment later. "I can give you...fifty creds apiece."

Tully straightened, his chest puffing out just a bit, remnants of his ARC training automatically kicking in along with his ire. "_Fifty_? That's not even robbery...it's an insult. Why don't you just shank me while you're at it?"

"It's a better deal than an outlander like yourself is going to get, _haja_," the Zygerrian replied, his pitch dropping on the slang-word that Tully didn't need a droid to translate to know that it was insulting. "Well, forty-five now, with that comment."

The _cha'kaar _sounded smug as all get-out, and Tully opened his mouth to retort. However, Johari's words came back to him, and he realized with annoyance that he was not really in a position to turn away coin of any kind. Not now, when he and Jo were so desperate for income they had actually started selling off components of her beloved ship.

"Fine," he said with a shrug. "Forty-five's great. Me and forty-five are best friends, actually." He held out his hand, mentally weighing the credits as they fell onto his palm. Beneath the strip of cloth that he wore around his head, his eyes narrowed. "You trying to cheat me?"

A guffaw sounded, and the Zygerrian pressed the rest of the creds in his hand. "Not easily fooled, are you, _haja_?"

Tully gave a feral grin as he tucked the money into a pouch beneath his vest. Now that the transaction was complete, all semblance of politeness fell away. Just because he couldn't see didn't mean that he was helpless, after all, and Tully had an inclination to give a piece of his mind to the slaving _shabuir, _even though he only said: "Maybe I'm a Miralukan, and I can see your filthy, cheating soul with the Force. You ever think about that?"

He didn't wait to hear the merchant's reply, instead turning and making for the cantina where Jo would be waiting, chuckling at the litany of Zygerrian swear-words that were emanating from the merchant. Johari had been a bit hesitant about letting him conduct their business while she tried to meet with a contact, but Tully had been resolute in his conviction that he could manage, and damn, did it feel good to be proven right.

Of course, his cavalier mention of a Miraluka brought one very specific person to his mind, and Tully found his bravado fading away as the memory of the Jedi, Atreus Rand, bubbled to the surface of his brain while he slipped through the market, using his keen ear and his memory of his previous journeys through the area to guide him along even as he considered.

Where in the nine Corellian hells was his former general? After six months of being on the run with the Echani woman, Johari Senna, with no word from their Jedi, he thought that he knew, but could never quite bring his mind to form the thought.

Because, if he allowed _that_ thought to creep in, others would be swift on its heels.

Mira, his late wife...

Right now, Tully had no desire to think of anything besides returning to Jo and leaving this miserable excuse for a planet. So as he walked, he concentrated on feeling for the brush of displaced air that would indicate other passers-by and smelling the Force-damned scent of Zygerrian body odor that would likely _never _leave his nostrils even after he'd departed the world.

Maybe he hadn't been paying as close attention as he'd meant. Maybe he _was _distracted by thoughts of his friend and of the other memory he'd tried to lock away. But none of it mattered when he crashed headlong into a rather solid form.

"Watch where you're going, mudcrutch."

Rather than respond with equal vitriol as was his first inclination, Tully froze. The voice was familiar, almost frighteningly so, and for a moment he was stunned that he'd heard it _here_ of all places. It was just like his but a bit younger, which meant that it belonged to another clone, and he frowned in puzzlement at the realization as he turned his head towards the source of the sound. What was a Fett clone doing all the way out here?

Besides being on the run from the Imperials with a rogue Antarian Ranger, of course. Tully was pretty sure he had the monopoly on that situation.

Multiple feet paused, indicated a group. A quick analysis told him that there were six; if he inhaled, he could smell their sweat and the traces of processed ship's air that clung to their skin, indicating that they'd arrived recently. There was another scent, too. Faint, feminine...watery,he realized after a moment. Certainly no clone.

"Risky..." It was another clone's voice, different only because Tully knew what to listen for. "Why'd you have to be such a-"

Another voice sounded, female. "Guys, come on." To Tully, she said: "Sir, I'm sorry...we're new here." Her tone was respectful, with a measured pace that he recognized as the kind that often came with hours upon hours of meditation.

The girl spoke with the refined inflection of a Jedi that was a constant, no matter where they were from.

Rand had spoken just like that, and Tully had come to know his former general's voice so well before...he pushed the thought aside to focus on the _here _and _now, _noting the irony of the situation that Rand would have probably appreciated.

Atreus Rand had been right about this, too, and Tully swallowed down his apprehension. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. "Don't worry about it," he replied, modulating his voice to a gruffer, hopefully unfamiliar register. "It's a tough planet, especially if you've just arrived."

"How did you...?" Confusion was evident in the female Jedi's voice.

"Come on, Zar. We need to get going if we're going to rescue Faye." It was the second clone, the one who'd named the first as "Risky." "Zar" was – evidently – the Jedi.

A third clone spoke. "Guys...keep it down, okay? Let's not advertise ourselves any more than we have already."

There was a brush of air against his cheek, below the strip of cloth he wore to conceal his eyes and lead credence to his Miraluka disguise. The displaced air as Jedi had turned away from him indicated that she either had long, thick hair...or _lekku,_ and he frowned.

However, he didn't have time to speculate on her race, because soon the group was moving away from him, as evidenced by the faint vibration of the ground that was almost lost in the host of other sensations from the market place. At once, Tully's annoyance over the merchant, his sorrow over the thoughts of departed companions, even his irritation in general had fled his mind with the encounter, and for one moment the former ARC debated.

It was only a moment, as he'd been programmed to make critical decisions within the blink of an eye, and then he was tailing them. Muscles that had trained for his entire life automatically responded to his new mission of stealth, and Tully moved through the crowded streets with the grace of a shadow. A lesser man might have doubted his own ability to make his way through the market without the use of his sight, but Tully was ARC, one of the original, Alpha-designations that had been personally trained by Jango Fett. Being blind, he assured himself, was no big deal, not really, and he shoved all doubt from his mind with his new mission.

To further obscure his features, he pulled the hood of the coat he'd taken to wearing around his face – though there was little issue of anyone recognizing him as a Fett clone with the blindfold, anyway – and meandered after the group, keeping them within earshot but far enough away so that they wouldn't discern his intent. His only concern on that score was the Jedi. If she was as attuned to the Living Force as Rand had been, the game might be up.

As much as he wanted to race after them, Tully knew that it was more important to make sure that they were whom he suspected. There were a lot of things the group of young folks could be, but only one of those things was something he gave a kriff about.

The heat of the market was thick, but it was not entirely due to the temperature of the air. This part of Zygerria was apparently in its winter season, so the air was dry, and every so often a mild breeze would slip down from the Drukarg Highlands, carrying the scent of distant snow to mingle with the pungent spices and Zygerrian pipe-weed, a famed pastime among the slavers. Basic was common here, but Tully could make out a bevy of other languages among the familiar sounds: Bocce, Zabraki, and Huttese among the guttural snarf of native Zygerrian. The kids, as he'd come to think of his quarry, were speaking in harried Basic as they rushed through the market, but beyond the language he couldn't discern their words, even with his sharp hearing.

Gradually, the languages changed. The Bocce and Zabraki faded away, followed by the Huttese. The pipe-weed scent grew almost overpowering, mingling with old blood, new sweat and an almost palpable fear. The dust beneath Tully's feet turned to smooth stone, evidence that he was approaching an arena of some kind, and he felt the breeze of the open-air market recede, as if the buildings on either side of the street began to close in.

All of these things revealed to his senses the destination of the kids, and he grimaced as the mention of "rescuing" someone named Faye returned to his mind. With a sigh, he realized that he should get back to Jo and bring her along to rescue the younger folk _before_ they lost the inevitable fight.

"Big damn heroes, are you, _di'kutle_?" he muttered to himself as he turned and made his way back to his original destination, before all the nonsense began. "Just try not get yourselves killed before we come to the rescue."

* * *

Ensconced within the confines of the Zygerrian cantina, Johari Senna tried – as she found herself doing a lot these days – not to let despair creep in.

Back to the wall, she busied herself with visually scanning the room, assessing any potential threats in the patrons while she waited for Tully's return and resisted the urge to glance at her chrono again. With her booted feet resting on the only other chair at the small, round table at which she sat, the slender, pale-skinned woman did not appear intimidating to the casual observer. In fact, she figured that she looked a bit insubstantial, save for the bulky, brown nerf-leather jacket that she wore over her clothes, one that fell past her knees. Her dyed, dirty-blond hair was gathered at the nape of her neck in a messy bun, with a few strands falling down about her shoulders. Despite the glass of ale beside her, she sat with her hands folded across her torso, and held almost unnaturally still.

By his own reckoning, Tully should have been back by now; it was unlike the former ARC to be late, or to misjudge how long it would take him to complete a mission, and the Echani woman darted her eyes to the door of the cantina as if he'd appear clawed at her gut, but she pushed it down, deep with the other feelings that she tried to ignore.

A server – a young, female Zygerrian, perhaps a relative of the proprietor – paused before the table, a stack of glasses overloaded on the tray in her hand. Jo glanced up, debating about trading in her warm ale for a fresh cup, then decided against it, taking a sip of her drink as if to prove a point.

She could have pulled a face at the taste of the stale beverage, but did not. In fact, had anyone been watching her, they would have wondered if the young woman in her mid-twenties had any expressions at all, for her face had not shifted, and she gave nothing away of the turmoil that was within. A bitter taste from the ale was now in the back of her throat, but Jo ignored it, instead taking a moment to observe the cantina around her.

It was the usual mix of patrons: spacers stopping by for a drink and a bit of gossip about this and other ports-of-call; merchants with sharp eyes who were – she had no illusions – here to trade in living flesh, as the slave markets were set to open soon; locals who fed the trades of the others and who were in turn fed by the outlanders' credits.

None of them gave the silver-eyed woman more than a passing glance, and for that she was thankful.

After all, these days it was better _not _to be noticed.

Fifteen minutes later, Tully still had not returned, and she found herself growing more and more anxious for the clone. A myriad of scenarios had begun to play out in her mind, everything from Tully being assaulted, robbed and left for dead in some dingy alley, to Tully doing the assaulting and ending up on the slave block himself. The former ARC had always been...tenacious, but Jo knew that he would never be the man he used to, not since her sister, Mira, had died.

The thought made her shift in her seat. It was a minuscule movement, but to one who knew the language of the body, it was a clarion call of agitation.

Mira would have loved this place, she thought, eying the carousing crowd. Johari's sister had generally preferred to be in the company of others, and it seemed that the feeling had always been mutual; while Jo herself enjoyed her solitude – save for a few exceptions – there was nothing that Miriam had enjoyed more than boisterous company and a good dose of laughter.

Jo's head tilted down and her eyelids half-closed, and she realized that she shouldn't have thought of her sister, now. There was a burning behind her eyes as she tried to force the memories back within the confines of her mind, where they belonged.

Jo and Tully had both done their grieving, and Miriam's spirit had been sent to her ancestors so that the younger woman could be at peace, which should have been enough for those who'd been left these thoughts, there was a small pouch of ashes on the inside pocket of Johari's jacket that felt heavy, and her shoulders sank, just a little.

A chorus of jeers erupted from the opposite corner of the cantina, next to the bar, and Jo's gaze lifted for just a moment to see a group of Weequay holding an arm-wrestling competition. She sighed and shut her eyes for one moment, running her hand through her dyed hair as she lamented the need for such a disguise; her nose wrinkled at the greasy feel, and at the sharp scent that still would not leave her nostrils.

When she looked up again, Tully was there, and she exhaled in relief.

"Fancy meeting you here." His arms were crossed before his chest, the dull black coat he wore was too small, the sleeves pulling back to reveal his thick wrists, and he was scowling down at her. But it was not his customary expression; she noted that his entire body was tense, as if he was a coiled spring ready to be released.

So she ignored his words and spoke in her normal, quiet tone. "What is it?"

The clone's frown deepened and he jerked his head towards the door. "We have a situation that you might want to take a look at."

"Tully, who did you get into a fight with?" She tried to keep her voice calm despite the agitation in her heart. "We can't afford to appear on anyone's radar-"

"You always assume the worst, _vod'ika,_" he replied. After a pause his hand reached down to skim the edge of the chair that held her feet; she slid her boots to the floor and he took a seat, folding his arms along his elbows and leaning forward to speak to her. "_I _was nearly assaulted...by a group of young men. Young _clones_."

"Tully-"

His voice dropped. "And a female Jedi."

Johari froze at the word, turning it over and over in her mind before she blinked at him. "You're certain?" He blew out a snort of air from his nose, which she took to mean 'yes,' and she gave a deep sigh.

Of course, Tully voiced her thought. "Rand was right, wasn't he? That vision he had, with the Jedi and the younger clones..."

Jo frowned a bit in thought but made no response other than to lift her fingertips to her forehead, as if she could press the missing pieces of her memory back in with the motion. Of the last half-year she remembered everything – too much, she figured – but from about two years ago to six months ago her memories were...spotty, at best. She didn't know exactly why she had this inexplicable urge to find the Jedi artifact known as the Great Holocron, but there it was, an impulsion that she had no choice but to follow.

If she knew where Atreus was, she could have asked him, but of course she had no idea where the Miralukan had gone.

_Gone_.

No, Atreus was _not_ dead, she told herself, but likely in hiding. All Jedi were now enemies of the Empire, had been so for about five years, and he'd always been reluctant to put others in harm's way for his own sake. It was one of the things that she...liked about him?

Jo frowned at the tenuous thought; it reminded her of being young, when her mother would place all kinds of interesting things on the highest shelves in their house, and Jo would jump as hard as she could, arms outstretched to reach the tempting objects, but she could never quite grasp at them.

As if pulling her out of her musing, Tully sat up and jerked his thumb in the direction of the door. "They're in trouble, or they're going to be. I followed 'em to the Slavers' Market...from the sounds of it they were on a rescue mission of a sort." He gave a feral sort of smile, one that showed his teeth and reminded Jo – as if she needed reminding – that he was one of the most dangerous kinds of men in the galaxy: a canny and capable one, who feared almost nothing and had less to lose. "I can only imagine how well _that's_ going to go."

The words of Atreus Rand, a Jedi Knight with whom she and Tully had both served, had begun echoing in her head from the moment that her companion had mentioned finding the other clones and the Jedi: _there will be five of them, together as the fingers of your hand are together, linked by one who wields the Force. They are the children of the storm, and they are the key to finding the Great Holocron. _

Tully cleared his throat. "Are we going or what?" Beneath the table, his knees were bouncing, and for one moment she thought he seemed so young, growth acceleration aside; sometimes Tully seemed like a teenager more than a man grown, and anxious to jump into the fray.

The cantina was growing emptier by the minute, and she reckoned that the slave auctions were to start in about an hour, so Johari rose and began to thread her way through the tables towards the door, Tully at her heels.

Outside, the afternoon was just getting started, as if the cooler air from the highlands had been pushed aside by the heat. The marketplace was emptying. From his place at her side, Tully indicated the direction he'd come from, and they began to wind their way through the streets. Johari moved with alacrity, but even so the blind clone kept pace with her, his steps assured despite his lack of eyesight.

The closer they got to the site of the auction, the thicker the crowd seemed to become until it was coalescing around them, a miasma of beings of all kinds; everyone appeared to be converging onto a large stadium built in the center of town. Elaborate archways curved along the sides to allow the audience to enter, and within the interior of the arena Jo could make out large screens set up to allow potential buyers in the crowd to see the "merchandise."

Most of the crowd seemed to be directed towards one location: a row of booths set up to allow potential buyers to rent special datapads on which they could record bids in real-time, to allow the auctioneer a way to keep track of who purchased what – or whom. In the back of the stadium, Jo could make out the entrance to the slave sectors, where special, VIP members could take a look at the wares before the auction began.

Despite the crowd and the violent reputation of the Zygerrians, it was all incredibly efficient, and Johari felt sick to her stomach.

However, she had little time to dwell on the feeling, as Tully gave a deep sigh and touched her upper arm; turning in the direction of his lifted hand, her face fell at the sight. A group of three young men – with painfully familiar faces – were gathered around a blue-skinned young woman who seemed like some kind of Nautolan-Twi'lek hybrid. They were facing a tall, thick-necked Zygerrian who was looking down at them with little interest but quite a bit of disdain. She couldn't make out their words, but Tully must have, as he stepped forward and began to run, just as the Zygerrian's entire body shifted in the manner it would if he were about to strike one of the boys.

In return, all of them seemed to tense, and she watched as several hands went to grasp for weapons. Their plan – she assumed they had one – was baffling; were they just going to attempt to bash in the Zygerrian's skull and take what or whom they wanted? As far as Fett clones went, Jo had seen Tully in action, of course, and the girl – the Jedi – looked to be in decent shape, but she could also see the _other _Zygerrians who were waiting in the nearby shadows, ready to spring to their comrade's aid.

The situation was about to get particularly nasty, so with a tug on Tully's sleeve to guide him along, Johari surged forward.

* * *

_So this chapter brings us the return of Tully and Johari; the former ARC was a ton of fun to write, but he also presented many challenges, as I've never written a blind POV character before. I'm curious to know what you guys think of him and his POV so far. (Anyone catch the _Firefly_ reference? :P) _

_With Jo and Tully's return, all the major characters are in place and the story is about to pick up! See? I told you it would happen...eventually. ;)_

_Zygerria: all of this part was written well before that particular arc aired on TCW, so I had to make a few minor tweaks to fit with canon – mostly relating to the appearance of the Zygerrians themselves. (They looked _way_ cooler on Wookieepedia before the episodes aired, imo.) _

_Thanks for reading! Reviews and comments are welcome! (Think of reviews like a virtual tip jar: "Support your local authors! Leave feedback.")_


	8. Trial And Error

Song: "Tighten Up," by The Black Keys, from the album, _Brothers_.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Trial And Error**

_When I was young and moving fast,_

_Nothing slowed me down,_

_Oh slowed me down._

_Now I let the others pass,_

_I've come around,_

_Oh come around,_

_'Cause I've found,_

_Living just to keep going,_

_Going just to be sane,_

_All the while live knowing,_

_Such a shame._

_Earlier..._

Not for the first time in his life, Levy didn't mind so much that he couldn't speak, because no one would have listened to him anyway.

After the adrenaline high from evading the Imperials had worn off, the crew of the as-yet-unnamed Deep-X made the final leg of the journey to Zygerria in relatively good spirits. Drake was praised – with good reason, for his piloting skills had saved the day – but Levy was more pleased with the ship's performance. It took away some of the sting of fear that refused to leave him after the close-call. Levy was bothered, more than he could express, about the fact that the Imps had somehow pulled their ship out of its hyperspace route; technology of that kind he'd only read about, but had never experienced first-hand.

It was not something that he wanted to relive.

Now, the evidence of the Empire's dominance in the galaxy had moved from rumor to speculation to fact, and even in the oppressively pungent, heated air of the Zygerrian marketplace, he shivered and tried not to scratch at his left arm. Just after the attack, they'd managed to send and receive a few coded transmissions to Master Altis, learning that the Jedi Master had a ship in a nearby system, but still...the brief Imperial entanglement had been a dangerous wake-up call.

Of all his companions, only Zara seemed as affected as he; his brothers had hardly seemed to notice the attack, save Risky's lament that they hadn't gotten to use the guns and the continuing debate about an appropriate name for the ship.

There were an abundance of neon signs that indicated the way to the auction area, which was where Altis' intel had indicated that Faye would be located, and he tried to recall the myriad of plans that the elder clones had tried to work out with them before they'd left, to be prepared for any contingency. Even so, as they hurried through the market, he kept thinking the same thing over and over that he never should have left Mundali. The whole Imperial encounter had been close...too close. Next time, he knew, they might not be fast or lucky enough to escape.

_We have a mission, Levy. We can't turn back, now. _Zara's voice in his mind was soothing, and he felt his shoulders relax a bit, as he hadn't realized he was broadcasting his thoughts. She glanced at him, her pale-blue skin offset by the saffron color of most of the buildings in this part of the city. "Besides," she added, indicating the area around them. "It's interesting, isn't it?"

Presently they were passing a group of Weequay ne'er do-wells who were heading into a nearby cantina; all of them were swaying unsteadily on their feet, singing a raucous song in a language that Levy couldn't identify. All around were vendors and booths, selling a wide variety of goods, from shimmersilk clothing and decadent jewelry to food that seemed varying degrees of appetizing. There was so much noise: disjointed shouting, arguments, jokes being told and enjoyed. Levy and his brothers were keeping to the peripheral edges of the crowd, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

"Interesting is one word for it, I guess," Drake said from behind them. Turning, Levy didn't miss how his brother's eyes passed from him to Zara, his brow furrowed. The question was clear, and Levy recalled that they had each been too engrossed in different aspects of the journey to discuss much of anything. He figured that Zara hadn't mentioned the fact that she could speak to him through the Force either, then wondered why it mattered, or if it did at all.

The Nautolan looked thoughtful, but made no response as they continued. Ahead of them, Keo and Risky had taken point and were craning their necks to see everything they could. Zara and Finn were in the center of the group, and Levy found his pace gradually slowing, until he'd fallen in step with Drake, who was – as he'd put it – guarding their rear.

Before his brother could speak, Levy raised his hands. _It's not like _that_, vod. It's just the mind-talking thing with the Force...Kalinda managed to get the Jedi to speak to me that way. They can – could – all manage it. _He paused to tug down the sleeve of his jacket over his left arm until it brushed against his knuckles. _It's good to be able to "talk" with someone, you know? _It was true; sometimes his hand cramped up when they couldn't keep up with the pace of his thoughts, and he wished that he weren't damaged. Times like that were when he really felt the nanogene droids scuttling beneath his skin.

Drake nodded, but kept scanning their surroundings, and Levy could read the tension in his brother's steps. Finally, the other clone sighed and glanced at Zara once, before lifting his own hands in the sign-language that they had all learned to mimic. It was useful, particularly in situations where stealth was required.

_Of course it's fine, Levy, _he signed. _I don't care how close the two of you are. It's not like she's – _his hands fumbled here and Levy could see his throat move in a tight swallow before he continued. _It's not meant to be, for us, okay? And she's fine with it, so I am too. We had a...a thing all those years ago, but it's long since over, now. Besides, _he added with a faint smile in Levy's direction. _I am glad that you have someone to talk to normally._

_It's nice, _Levy admitted with a grimace. _Really nice, actually._ As he was wondering whether or not to tell his brother that he didn't really think Zara was "fine" with whatever was between the two of them, there was a skidding sound of boots on dust, followed by a growl of displeasure from Risky, and a choice phrase. Drake tried to move his brother past the blind stranger while Zara apologized, but all of Levy's attention was on the man that Risky had collided with.

Though his voice was gravelly, Levy _knew_ beyond the shadow of a doubt that this was a Fett clone, and his realization was confirmed over the course of the brief encounter. The understanding made him want to stop in his tracks and question the stranger, but already his brothers and Zara were moving away, in the direction of the slave market. As it was, Levy only took a moment to pause and glance behind him, catching sight of the blindfolded clone who was facing their retreating backs.

_Zara? _

Her reply was immediate. _Levy? What is it?_

Levy frowned and cast another look behind him, but the blindfolded clone was nowhere insight. _You know that was a Fett clone, right?_

_Are you sure? _She sounded dubious and she turned to glance at him, so he nodded vigorously. After that she made no reply, only nodded once as they continued on.

There was no time to process the strange encounter any more than that, as they reached the auction site within a few moments. The crowd was growing thicker, and the group instinctively stuck close together. Though the clones had always taken pains to ensure that their appearance was different, each of them was all-too-aware of the fact that five identical young men in a group would clearly stand out, and they were not willing to take unnecessary risks.

It was crowded. For a few moments they simply tried to stand out of the way of the main group of potential buyers and tried to get their bearings. Levy watched as Zara got more than a few interested looks from passers-by, and he couldn't help the scowl that came to his face because of the fact. Drake seemed to notice as well, and the two young men sidled closer to the blue-skinned young woman's sides as if to offer her protection, even though Levy was certain that she didn't need it, recalling his friend's skills with a saber and a blaster alike.

The Padawan seemed not to notice the movement of her friends, as her eyes were fixed on a group of young women, a mixture of Twi'lek, Togruta, and other Near-Humans, who were being led into a corridor at the rear of the amphitheater, where Levy supposed was the "backstage" area for the auction. None of them looked any older than she was, and he saw her _lekku_ twitching in agitation, and her large eyes blink several times.

Risky gave a heavy sigh and glanced at Drake, seemingly oblivious to anything but his own irritation. "Are we gonna get going or what?"

"There are more people here than Traxis and Ares reckoned," Finn said with a shake of his head. "We can't exactly go charging in like I know you want to, Risk."

"We need to get back there, remember?" Zara said, nodding in the direction the slavers had guided the young women. "It was part of Altis' intel. That's where the...people are kept right before the-" She broke off and gave a sharp inhale and her fists clenched beneath her jacket. After a moment she took a breath and looked at Drake. "I wonder if they allow independent sellers to come in, or if you have to be registered with the Slavers' Guild?"

"No," Drake replied, his eyes widening a fraction before he shook his head. "Absolutely not, Zar. We'll find another way in."

Keo frowned and lifted his hand to his chin in thought as his eyes flicked from Zara to another group of slaves. "It's not the worst idea, Drake."

"And we'll be right with her," Risky added, patting his hip where he kept his sidearm. "She won't be in any real danger."

"Someone _has_ to get back there," Zara said. "Just long enough to find Faye. Then we can leave."

Drake still seemed uncertain, but from the tone of her voice, Levy could tell that Zara had made up her mind. _It might not even come to you going back there, Zara, _he said with his hands. _If you can distract the guards, a couple of us can slip back and find her. _

Finn's eyes were alight, as he'd caught on to Levy's train of thought. "From Altis' intel, there's not a lot to the locks they use...pretty standard, really." He glanced at Levy, a faint smile appearing on his face. "Think you and I can pull it off, _vod_?"

The good thing about not being able to speak was that it didn't matter if you couldn't find the right words, so Levy gave what he hoped was a confident nod, though internally he was fighting back his agitation. Drake didn't seem pleased either, but the matter appeared to be out of his hands, and the group took a moment to slip away from the crowd to huddle in a nearby alley and better formulate their plan.

"That means we're in charge of the distraction, " Risky said after a brief, hushed discussion. He rubbed his gloved hands together, a feral smile on his face. "Fan-kriffing-tastic."

* * *

Despite his misgivings, Drake had to admit that it seemed the best way to go about the whole affair, though he inherently disliked the thought of deliberately setting Zara in harm's way. After Finn pulled out a pair of restraining cuffs from among the miscellany he always kept in his pack, Zara held out her slender wrists to Drake, meeting his eyes with her own. "I know you don't like it," she murmured. "But it really is the best idea."

As he tried to attach the cuffs without touching her skin, the action reminded him of their first meeting, over five years ago, when she'd been a prisoner of a crazed Kaminoan scientist along with he and his brothers. She'd been bound in a similar fashion, and in what had been the highlight of his admittedly short military career, he'd managed to free her. At the time, it had been the closest he'd ever been to a Jedi.

The cuffs weren't really secure, but they'd have to do. She'd shed her jacket and saber as well, giving both to Drake for him to tuck in his own pack. Beneath it she was wearing only a black, sleeveless shirt and a pair of fitted trousers that indicated the Padawan had matured into a very attractive young woman; for a moment he couldn't help but gaze at the graceful swell of her hips, or note the way that her shirt curved around her breasts.

_Stop it right now, you _di'kut,he told himself. _Snap out of it and keep your mind on the mission, soldier._

Trying to insure that his eyes did not linger where they shouldn't, Drake took a breath and met her gaze. "I don't like it," he admitted, his eyes shifting to Risky and Keo, still within the shadow of the alley as they checked the charges on their weapons. "And I think that we need to be careful – this goes for all of you," he added, narrowing his eyes at his brothers. "Nothing reckless or stupid. Risk, you listening?"

"Copy that, _Commander._"

With a sigh, Drake glanced at Finn and Levy, who were scanning the rear of the marketplace. It was a relatively broad area, necessary to accommodate the large number of beings in attendance to the auction; there were several tall guard-towers stationed around the perimeter, which Drake assumed allowed an unrestricted look should any slaves attempt an escape. He hoped they could work around that. "Once we have the guards' attentions, you should be able to slip past. Levy..." He took a breath, then continued. "How far away can you and Zara be before you can't...talk to each other anymore?"

His brother glanced at the Nautolan girl, then shrugged and lifted his hands. _We haven't really tested it like that. I'm not sure. Maybe a few klicks? _She nodded in agreement, then smiled at the mute clone.

A flare of jealousy spiked within Drake at the action, but he set it to the side in order to focus on their mission. "Great. I want you two to stay in contact; if there's any trouble, we need to be aware of it. Risk, Keo and I will escort Zara and keep the attention of the guards long enough for you to get in, get Faye, and get out."

Finn held up a second set of cuffs he'd been able to scrounge up. "If we keep her bound, hopefully no one will look twice at seeing another slave-girl being led around. At least, until we return."

_There's enough people and booths,_ Levy added. _I think we can make it back here without too much trouble. _

"And we'll give those _chakaare_ something to focus on in the meantime," Risky added.

"As long as we can all get away after we're done," Drake said. He cocked his head at Zara, whose eyes were on another group of girls being led into the arena. "You didn't learn that shielding thing from Kalinda, did you?"

She glanced back at him and shook her head, her _lekku _swaying. "I couldn't ever figure it out, unfortunately."

"It's okay, Zar," he replied, his voice softening at her expression of remorse. "We'll manage without."

Keo cleared his throat. "Guys? We should get going."

Soon enough, Drake found himself facing a rather burly Zygerrian, and wondering just how foolish he was for going along with the plan. It would have gone better, he realized, if one of them had spoken the native language of the slavers, but as it was this particular fellow – whose name they'd learned was Rurik – only spoke a handful of Basic. Communication was difficult, to say the least, and so far they'd only managed to figure out that no, the Guild did not allow independent merchants to enter the arena.

"We can pay the fee," Drake said, speaking the words clearly. It was true, actually. Kalinda had given them a bit of coin, most of which was left aboard the ship, but Drake and Zara each had pocketed some for emergencies while they were dirtside. For good measure, he pulled a few creds from his belt and jingled them in his palm.

Unfortunately, the sound did not have the desired effect. Rurik snorted and gave a wave of his hand as if to dismiss them. "Not a Guild member, no deal. No matter how pretty." This last part was said with a leer towards the blue-skinned girl. Despite his attempts at nonchalance, Drake found his jaw tightening. It was difficult to watch the brutish Zygerrian run his eyes along Zara's body, the bony ridges that his horns created along his jaw darkening with arousal even though his posture remained aloof.

To her credit, Zara kept her eyes downcast and her posture hunched, though it pained Drake to see her even acting as though she'd been mistreated, and he realized that he very much wanted to get the entire situation over with. So he glanced up at the Zygerrian again and opened his mouth to speak, even as the slaver nodded in acknowledgment of a group of his compatriots who were leaving the slave quarters and making their way for the arena itself.

Of course, before Drake could speak, Keo jumped in. "Listen here, spike-face," he growled, modulating his voice to be a bit louder than was necessary, even among the buzz of the crowd, in order to fully keep the Zygerrian's attention upon them. "We didn't travel halfway across the Outer Rim to be turned aside by a pointy-eared, flarg-eating _di'kut_ who doesn't know a good opportunity when it walks up to him. Let us through, or we'll-"

"You'll...?" The Zygerrian's voice was more of a growl, and the narrowing of his eyes indicated that perhaps he'd understood more than the clones had given him credit for. His arms were still crossed and he was still looking down on them from his impressive height. Drake wanted to glance around, but was wary about taking his eyes off of Rurik.

Keo patted the unmistakable bulge of a blaster at his hip and spoke again, his tone managing to be both cocky and ominous. "We can get..._persuasive_."

At this, Rurik let out a bark of laughter, then made to brush them aside to wave another group of slaves and a Guild member through. Clearly, his attention still needed some focusing, and Drake knew that they needed to escalate the whole thing just a bit, enough to make Rurik pay more attention to himself and his brothers and less on the folks going in and out. Drake forced himself not to look at Zara as he considered the next move.

That was when Risky chose to take matters into his own hands. The red-haired clone reached forward and shoved Rurik's torso, hard enough to cause the bulky Near-Human to take a step back. Suddenly, a strange kind of hushed silence fell around their immediate area as the Zygerrian stared at the clone, who was even now glaring up at him with no fear evident in his eyes, his hand reaching for his blaster.

_Oh, kriff._

Drake gave a mental wince as Rurik's posture changed from indifferent to irate. Risky's particular brand of action wasn't quite what he'd had in mind, but he supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised that his brother had chosen to move everything to the next level in his own brusque manner. Keo's fingers were already moving for his own weapon, and he was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Risk. Beside him, Drake felt Zara tense, and wondered if she was trying to influence the Zygerrian's mind – though he'd heard that this species wasn't susceptible to such things, which was one of the reasons they were so good at what they did.

As it turned out, none of his thoughts mattered, because in the next moment everything went to hell.

* * *

In the former days of the Jedi Order, Zara figured that it would have been considered, at the very least, highly unorthodox to allow oneself to be taken into "custody" and brought to a slaver's market in order to be "sold." It wasn't unheard of; in fact, she recalled hearing of a similar mission with another Padawan during the Wars, but generally Jedi chose to work without such lurid plans.

Honi certainly would not have been pleased with the current scenario, but Zara remembered how Kalinda had once made certain _allowances _with regards to her own reputation among a rather lewd group of pirates, just so she, Zara and Honi could leave their custody without incident. It had culminated in the pirate leader slapping Kali's backside in front of his crew while he bragged about his prowess – so much so that even a _Jedi_ couldn't resist him – though he did let them go.

At the time, Zara had been a little shocked. But, she reasoned, that had been years ago. Now she thought she understood the necessity of such a thing, especially as she listened to the interaction between Risky and the Zygerrian, Rurik, and thought of the downcast eyes and hunched shoulders of the young women she'd seen. Resolve tightened in her heart, along with the understanding that, although the ends didn't always justify the means, her own pride was nothing in the face of a greater mission.

But it was still difficult to remain cowed and meek-looking when she knew there were so many who needed her help, just within her reach. Her mind drifted a little, and she wondered if she could ever return to Zygerria and maybe-

The thought was cut off by a flare of apprehension from Levy; he and Finn had successfully managed to infiltrate the areas where the slaves were kept prior to being up for sale, but he was still nervous about being discovered. From what she could tell, it was busy enough that no one had noticed them, but he felt that it was only a matter of time. Though she didn't think she could really help him, Zara tried to send a measure of confidence and reassurance his way, to bolster his spirits if nothing else.

It worked a little. Some of his agitation fled, but then she realized that it was due to the fact that his mind had found a new scenario to work over, as they'd come across Faye. She took a breath and reached to Levy through the Force, for a few moments forgetting to pay attention to what was happening around her. _Levy? You found her? Is she hurt? Do you think you can-_

_Give a guy one second to reply, okay? _His tone was sardonic and she bit back a chuckle, despite everything. He added: _I think we can do this, just need a few minutes. Finn's talking to her, now._

This made Zara open her eyes and glance at the others, only to realize that the situation had deteriorated from unfriendly to downright hostile. Risky and Keo were both getting ready to draw their weapons while Drake had inched closer to her side as if to protect her. Rurik's eyes were narrow as he faced down the red-haired clone, and he was speaking.

"If you know what's good for you, _haja_, you will leave. Now." His hand had crept to his weapon, a wicked-looking vibroblade with a serrated edge, and after re-orienting her awareness around them, Zara realized that they were surrounded, because most of the crowd had faded into the background, leaving only Rurik's companions and coworkers. "Stinking Humans...you're out of your league."

She cut her eyes to Drake, but his gaze was on the Zygerrian before them. The clone's back was straight, his broad shoulders were tense, his eyes were full of fire, and she had an inexplicable urge to grab his hand. For the span of a few heartbeats everyone was silent.

Zara had been so preoccupied with Drake that she didn't sense Risky's fury until it was too late. The young clone gave a shout of indignation and raised his weapon.

He didn't even get to pull the trigger.

Rurik was upon him, faster than Zara had ever seen a being of his size move, and the next thing she knew, Risky had cried out once in pain and collapsed to the ground, the front of his shirt darkening with blood. But before he'd hit the dust, his brothers began firing. Dropping all pretense of her enslavement, Zara broke free of the cuffs and reached for her blaster that Drake had slung in his spare side holster. The three of them stood above Risky, backs together, firing on the Zygerrians, who had descended upon them with alacrity.

For a few moments it was chaotic, and Zara dearly wished for her saber, as foolhardy as it would have been to reveal herself as a Force-user now. Blaster bolts rang around them, filling the air with the thick, electric scent of plasma. The clones were skilled and she was able to use the Force to subtly deflect some of the shots, but she knew that they couldn't hold this out for much longer. _Levy,_ she thought, ducking and firing at a nearby Zygerrian. _Are you guys done? Our cover's blown. _

_We're on the way out...we'll be there in a sec._

_No, _she thought back, her heels pressing into Risky's legs as she inched backward almost instinctively. _It's too dangerous...get to the ship, if you can. _

_I'm not leaving any of you, Zar. _Even his thoughts sounded stubborn, but she did not have time to frown, as Drake suddenly let out a yelp of pain beside her. She spared him a glance and realized with a twist of her gut that his right arm had been hit, the fabric of his coat black and smoldering. He looked at her, then, his almost-golden eyes filled with something she thought had been sent away, by her actions as much as his.

"I'm okay, Zar," he said in a strange voice. "Don't worry about me."

Suddenly, there was a horrific noise from across the plaza; it sounded like metal being rendered and twisted by force and was loud enough to cause everyone, Zygerrian, clone and otherwise to look over to see one of the guard towers that was stationed along the perimeter of the square as it began to careen down towards the crowd that had already started to disperse. Guttural shouts sounded and the slavers began bolting for cover. Zara's first instinct was to toss up her hands to try and use the Force to stop the massive thing from falling on top of them, but Drake and Keo had already bent to collect Risky.

As they were turning to run, a slender, pale-skinned woman appeared at Zara's elbow. "This way," she hissed, indicating the direction of the collapsing tower, which was making a screeching, grinding sound as it teetered forward. Zara hesitated, but the woman grabbed her wrist and met her eyes, silver against dark. "The Force is with us," she whispered. "Please...trust me."

Zara felt a chill pass through her at the words, but she followed, urging Keo and Drake along. The tower groaned through the air as it descended, and they went as quickly as they could, following the slender woman as she raced parallel to the collapsing structure. As they ran, she heard Levy's voice in her mind once more, oddly excited despite their dire situation.

_I was right, Zar. It _is_ a clone...the woman with you...trust her. It's okay._

It was too late, anyway, for her to change her mind, but she wasn't afraid, because she knew that the stranger was right about the Force being with them. The silver-eyed woman led them to a nearby alley, where Zara was relieved to see Levy, Finn and a bewildered, young Twi'lek she assumed was Faye already waiting for them. Deep violet skin stood out among the clones, and the female – who couldn't have been any older than Zara – had a series of spiraling tattoos on her _lekku_, the very idea of which made Zara wince. She was dressed rather scantily, as most of the potential slaves had been, with delicate swathes of silk draping across her legs and arms.

There was another person there as well, a man who Zara recognized as the blindfolded stranger from the marketplace. The hood of his jacket was down, and she could see now that he was a clone, though he wore a strip of cloth tied over his eyes in the manner of a Miraluka. Behind them, the tower finally collapsed into the dirt, and the entire area was blanketed in a cloud of dust that obscured everything. The Zygerrians were shouting to one another, but Zara hardly paid them any mind as she stared at the newcomers.

The woman they'd followed was pale of skin, with silver-colored eyes that met Zara's own gaze with calm despite their situation. Her cheekbones were wide and high, and there was a certain proud carriage to her movements, despite her somewhat disheveled appearance. Beneath her dark brown coat she was slender, but her stance was strong, as if she was ready to spring into action with barely a moment's notice. She may have been Echani, if not for the hair.

In any case, the stranger met and held Zara's gaze without a trace of fear, and the strange thought occurred to Zara that there was a touch of destiny about this woman, that the Force – while not strong at all with her – was somehow surrounding her.

There was much that Zara wanted to ask, but Drake's voice broke through her trance. "Zar..."

She looked down; Risky was still bleeding, and it looked bad. Really bad. Swallowing, Zara knelt beside him, where Keo and Finn were attempting to staunch the worst of the blood flow; Fay had begun ripping apart her costume in order to provide bandages, but the silver-eyed stranger stepped in.

"I have a medkit," the woman said, reaching into a pocket of her coat.

However, Zara ignored all of them as she knelt beside Risky and placed her hands just over the wound, closing her eyes as she did so. Despite the flare of pain she felt from Risky and that of worry from Drake, she sent a trickle of Force-energy to the wound, assessing its severity. What she found did nothing to set her at ease. It was deeper than she'd reckoned, and contaminated as if the Zygerrian's blade had been treated with a toxin of some kind. However, it was difficult to focus, particularly with all of the others hovering over her head.

Perhaps her expression indicated such. Perhaps Faye had her uncle's innate ability to read others; either way, the violet-skinned Twi'lek cleared her throat and urged the younger clones back to guard their position, allowing Zara to work in relative peace, despite the fact that the marketplace they'd just left was still rife with commotion, indicating that the danger was far from over.

However, all of Zara's attention was now on her patient. Below her hands, Risky groaned, his eyelids fluttering, and she felt her heart tighten with fear. "It's okay, Risk," she murmured, placing a hand on his forehead and sending him a bit of calming energy, hoping to help his pain. She glanced up, startled to see the silver-eyed woman kneeling beside her, holding out a hypospray. "Thanks," she said, pressing it to Risky's neck.

"Jo..." It was the blindfolded clone, his face contorted into a frown. "I can hear that they're starting to regroup. We need to move out."

"I know, Tully." The woman looked at Zara. "You're a Jedi." As Zara opened her mouth to reply, the silver-eyed woman shook her head and pressed her hand to her chest. "I'm an Antarian Ranger – we're on the same side. My name's Johari, or Jo, if you like. That's Tully," she added, jerking her thumb to the older clone, who gave a grunt in reply. Johari looked back at Zara, her expression earnest. "I'm so glad we found you, at last."

"_What_?" The word was spoken simultaneously by Zara and Drake, who'd come to kneel down beside her, heedless of the irritated glance that Faye shot his way.

Johari took a deep breath. "I know it sounds crazy, but just hear me out; I was told to look for ones like you by...by a Jedi Seer named Atreus Rand." Seeing Zara's incredulous expression, Jo gave her a look. "You can discern the truth for yourself. Look within my mind with the Force. I have nothing to hide."

There was no time to hesitate. Zara opened herself up to the flow of the Force and peered into the stranger's mind, her mouth parting in confusion at what she found: it was as if she was looking at a barren stretch of land, filled with walled-off sections beyond which she could make out...nothing. But they were missing memories, she realized, not conscious thoughts. Johari's mind appeared to be intact, though from what she could tell a mind trick had been performed upon her. However, her intentions were good, and there was no malice within her, not a whisper, though there was a deep, abiding sorrow. The woman – Jo – was telling the truth.

Additionally, a certain sense of capability resonated within the silver-eyed woman, and Zara puzzled over the title she'd given; having been staunch supporters of the Jedi Order, Antarian Rangers were almost as hunted as those they had once served with, and she'd honestly never thought she'd meet one. Zara opened her eyes and looked at Jo with new eyes. "Okay," she said. "I trust that you speak the truth...but-" She was cut off by the sound of booted feet; Tully's words had proven true, as the Zygerrians had regrouped and were searching for them.

Tully gave a growl and reached into his belt, pulling out a slender, long dagger that winked even in the dusty light. "We need to haul _shebs_. Now."

Drake indicated Risky. "Can he be moved?"

"He'll have to be," Tully replied, his fingers closing around the hilt of his weapon. "Unless you want to ask the slavers if you can use their hospital."

Johari stood up and lifted her hand down the alley. "We can make it to the spaceport from here...but we must hurry. Tully..."

"I've got your six," he replied. "Go on with the 'kids'...I'll cover you."

Zara felt Drake bristle at the term 'kids,' but he seemed to let it go, instead looking down at Risky with knitted brows. "Will he be okay?"

"The wound's deep, and already infected," Zara replied. "I'm not sure I can do anything right now, even with the Force." Her voice dropped. "If I had more time, maybe...but he needs real help, Drake. Some things even the Force can't fix."

Drake winced at the words. "Are you sure?"

"Maybe we can contact Traxis and Ares once we leave...try to find Altis..." Zara replied. "I don't know...all I do know is that he's stable for now, but Risky _needs_ real medicine."

"And we _need_ to go," Tully countered. "Hear that?" Indeed, they could make out the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

Zara looked at Finn, Levy and Keo, all of whom had taken defensive positions around the group; Faye was among them, armed with a blaster that looked incongruous next to the silky slave ensemble, though there was ferocity in her eyes. They exchanged glances for a moment but said nothing.

Keo stepped forward. "Come on, Finn. Let's take him." Sheathing their weapons, he and his brother hoisted Risky up as gently as they could, and everyone rose in unison. Johari was several paces down the alley, and Zara took a breath as she went to follow the Ranger.

It was not a moment too soon, for the slavers were upon them only moments later; blaster shots resonated around the alleyway, causing the others to duck as they avoided the fire. At one point, as Zara was attempting to cover Finn and Keo, she stumbled. Levy caught her arm and hauled her to her feet – with dismay she felt her bracelet from Altis rip and slide off of her wrist, but there was no time to worry about it. Johari urged them on, and the group raced for the spaceport.

* * *

Johari was displeased with the realization that the Zygerrians were a rather speedy lot, more so than she'd figured. However, _they_ were not the ones running for their lives, and as the old proverb said, _fear gives wings to the feet. _

Jo found herself in the lead as the group plummeted through back alleyways and side-streets, and she was thankful that she'd taken the time to wander around the city in the few days that she and Tully had spent planet-side. It had been a spur-of the-moment decision to come here, to try and meet with a contact who might be able to direct them towards the location of a particular Miralukan Jedi; though now it seemed as though the Force, destiny, or whatever it was had other plans for her and Tully.

To get her bearings and catch her breath, she paused before an intersection of two streets, keeping to the shadows. They had come some ways from the slave markets, but had a bit longer to go to reach the spaceport.

The young woman– one of the others had named her 'Zara' – halted as well and remained at the Ranger's side, alternating her glance between her injured friend, the streets around them, and Johari herself. Now that they had stopped for a moment, Jo could tell beyond a doubt that Zara and the younger clones were whom Atreus had meant: children of the storm, indeed. Tully had often spoken of Kamino's violent weather, and in her mind, the name fit the young men who all shared the same face and homeworld.

Again, she felt a pang of sharp regret surrounding the Miralukan Jedi as she thought of all the things she wanted to say to him, but thinking too hard about them always made her head start to ache, so she pushed the thoughts aside and glanced beside her at the blue-skinned young woman. "The spaceport's down that way," she said, listening to the footsteps of the others as they caught up. "We're only about a quarter of a klick away..." She paused, uncertain about the phrasing of her next words. "I think you need to come with me."

"What?" Several of the clones spoke in unison, but Zara only studied Jo for a few moments; the Ranger could feel the gentle prodding of the Force at her mind, so she allowed the Padawan to discern for herself that Jo was being honest. In the background, Tully gave a snort, but otherwise he held his tongue and remained in place, listening for incoming Zygerrians.

As she brushed Jo's mind with the Force, Zara spoke to her. "Why?"

The Nautolan's presence was gentle, and for one moment Johari was reminded of something else; a flare of memory darted up within her brain, then settled back behind the mental walls that she could not see around. She gave a tight swallow. "I need your help, Zara. I have a mission, one that may affect the future of the Jedi Order should it be completed."

"Zar-" One of the younger clones broke in, though he was crouched beside Tully at the edges of their group, keeping watch. "You can't possibly trust her!"

Now Tully, who'd been silent, shot him a frown, and Jo knew that beneath his blindfold he would be glaring despite his lack of sight. "Watch your tongue, rookie."

There was a distant, collective shout from the Zygerrians, and for one moment they all tensed, then the sounds of pursuit faded for the moment. Johari thought she could hear Tully's teeth grinding from her own position about three meters away, but the bulk of her attention was on the Padawan.

Zara frowned. "What mission?"

Before Jo could answer, Tully spoke up. "We're searching for the Great Holocron. Ever heard of it?"

Ignoring his tone, Johari reached into one of the interior pockets of her coat as she spoke. "It was the last thing that Atreus did before he...disappeared," she said, withdrawing a small, spherical crystal and handing it to the Padawan. "He hid it, somewhere. All I know is that this is the key to finding it."

Zara took the crystal and examined it closely, her dark eyes going very large. "This is an Adegan crystal...the kind we use for lightsabers. But I've never seen one in this cut or color. It's almost pure white..." She looked up at the young man next to Tully, who was glancing between the alley's exit and her; one of the others, the only one who had not spoken, moved beside her to study the crystal as well. In the shadows of the alley, the other clones were kneeling by their injured brother, along with the purple-skinned Twi'lek girl.

"I know all of this sounds...passing strange," Johari said, ignoring the sound of booted feet rushing past them, down nearby alleys. "And I know that you have little reason to trust that what I say is true, but I swear to you by my ancestors, I have been given this task, and I cannot complete it without your help."

Zara took a breath and seemed to consider a moment, before looking up at Jo again. "You said that Atreus Rand was a Jedi...?"

"Rand was a Seer," Tully broke in, his chin lifting. "A damn fine one, from what I could tell. I don't know much about the Force, and I wasn't privy to _all_ of the brouhaha with the Holocron, but I do know that if he said something was true, it was true."

Something in Johari's heart tightened at the word "was" but she shook the feeling aside once more to dwell on the here and now. "Several years ago he had a vision of you, Zara," she added. "You and your companions. He called them 'the children of the storm,' and said that all of you would be the key to my mission surrounding the Great Holocron." As she spoke, they heard the unmistakable whine of a speeder being started nearby, as if the slavers were preparing vehicles.

One of the young men lifted his hands and made a few fluttering motions with his fingers that Jo did not recognize, but his companions seemed to understand. Another of the clones,who had not been one of the ones helping to carry his brother, looked at the Nautolan. "Zar...you're not really thinking of going off with these people, are you?"

Zara turned and glanced at her injured companion, her brow furrowed. Jo could read the deliberation in her body, how she kept shifting her weight on the balls of her feet and how her fingers tensed; she also had about nine thick, _lekku_ that were twitching in agitation.

Behind them, Tully cleared his throat. "It's rude to take a blind guy sightseeing, you know. Is there some other reason we're _still_ standing here? "

Jo noticed that some of the younger clones shot him incredulous looks, though they said nothing, save the injured one who let out a groan. This caused the Padawan to shut her eyes briefly, then shoot a look at the younger clone who had spoken to her moments ago, who met her gaze. Something passed between them, something that even Jo, with her extensive understanding of the language of the body, couldn't read, something that caused him to frown and shake his head.

Zara looked back at Johari; her back was straight and her eyes were unwavering. "Okay. I'll come with you. But I need to make sure that Risky's taken care of, first. Let's get to our ships and regroup, then rendezvous when we're safe." Her tone was edged with uncertainty, but Jo thought that it was out of concern for her friend.

"Assuming we make it off of this rock alive, sure, why not?" Tully replied.

Trying not to roll her eyes, Jo nodded to the young woman. "Agreed." She straightened and removed her twin blades from their sheaths at her upper legs. "Tully...come with me. We'll stay here and draw their attention for a bit, which will give you time to get to your ship. Once we leave the system..." She paused and named a local moon that she knew would be secure; Zara nodded and turned to her companions.

There were a few moments of hushed debate, but they were cut short by a sudden shout from the edge of the alleyway – they had been discovered. The clones, the Padawan and the Twi'lek all broke into a run while Tully and Jo remained behind, daggers raised as they stood next to one another, ready to meet their foes. As the footsteps from the others faded and the bulky forms of the Zygerrians bore down upon them, Tully turned his face down to her.

"That's what I like about you Echani women: never a dull moment." The words were spoken with his usual gruff tone, but within she detected a note of sadness, and again she thought of her sister.

But it was pointless to grieve when she had so many other things to do, so she lifted her song-steel daggers and readied herself as the Zygerrians approached.

* * *

_Whew! Super long chapter today...thanks for sticking with me!_

_Ah, the "plot" begins, at long last. :P It took a while to get there, I know.  
_

_Johari has daggers and not blasters because her people, the Echani, prefer weapons of that sort. She's quite capable with them, as we'll see later. ;)  
_

_Poor Risky! :( They had a plan – of a sort – although it didn't work out so well. Zara and Co. are meant to come off as a bit inexperienced and...well, naïve. Hey, only one way to get experience, right?_

_Next up: fleeing Zygerria...sorta. :P _

_Thanks for reading! :)_

_Please check out my profile for some exciting news about a brand-new story!  
_


	9. Strong Enough

Song: "My Moon, My Man," by Leslie Feist, from the album, _The Reminder._

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Strong Enough**

_Heart on my sleeve,**  
**Not where it should be.**  
**The song's out of key again._

_Take it slow,  
Take it easy on me,  
And shed some light,  
Shed some light on me please._

To Levy's way of thinking, it took the group far too long to reach the spaceport where they'd left the Deep-X, but eventually...

"There's the ship!" Keo's voice was more of a pant as he and Finn hurried to carry Risky towards the Deep-X, Zara, Drake and Levy around them, providing cover as they ran. Levy shot a glance at Faye as she fired on a security panel by the door that led into the open-air hangar, effectively sealing it behind them after they'd entered the room.

"That should keep them out of our way for a minute," she said in lilting Basic, glancing around the space with a wary eye, most likely searching for more danger. They hadn't gotten a chance to speak much at all during her rescue, save for a few hushed words from Finn, who'd been decidedly embarrassed to recount the plot of a younglings' book to her, though, as Ares had predicted, it had shown her that they were who they claimed. She'd insisted on carrying a weapon, so Finn had given her his own.

The hangar where they'd landed the Deep-X was full of spacecraft, but there were few beings around, and Levy wondered if it was due to the auction or if the place was going on lockdown. Hopefully the former. After activating the remote that would allow the hatch to drop, Keo and Finn made a beeline for the lowering loading ramp of their ship, Risky still unconscious in their grasp; in the background, Levy could hear Zygerrians on the opposite side of the door, working to break their way in, and he wondered how long it would take them to just blow a hole through the durasteel in order to achieve their end.

Faye paused to eye the Deep-X before vaulting aboard after the clones; however, just as she did so the door burst open and a bevy of armed and angry-looking Zygerrians rushed into the hangar, immediately opening fire on the group; Zara and the remaining clones dove for cover behind several cargo crates between the Deep-X and another ship, and began to return the shots as best they could.

Naturally, this was the moment that Levy realized that the ship's engines needed to warm up before she could fly anywhere. He glanced at Zara, crouched beside Drake and firing steadily at the Zygerrians, and projected the thought to her; she nodded and whipped her head around to Faye, who was kneeling at the loading ramp, returning fire from just within the cover of the ship.

"Can you fly?"

The Twi'lek nodded and Zara ducked once, continuing to fire on the Zygerrians as she spoke. "Help them get it prepped. We'll hold the slavers off."

With a quick nod, Faye darted back into the ship, and Zara glanced over at Levy and Drake. "As for Risky," she added, her voice somehow carrying through the scream of blaster fire and the smell of burning metal. "It took us too long to get here...I think that it'll be dangerous for him with his injuries to wait however long it'll take for us all to rendezvous. Make sure he's sedated, and get him to Master Altis' people as soon as you can."

Drake was kneeling beside Levy, the two young men firing shoulder to shoulder, but at this he glanced at the Nautolan girl. "I don't like your tone, Zara. What are you planning?"

The Deep-X's engines fired up with a comforting hum, and Levy couldn't help nodding to himself at the clarity of their sound even through the chaos around him. Zara did not answer Drake; instead, she pointed towards an exhaust vent in the side of the main wall, where the Antarian Ranger and her clone companion were emerging. "I'm going with them," she said at last.

"Zar..."

"I know you don't think it's a good idea, Drake," she replied. "But the Force is at work here – I just feel it. This is the path I'm supposed to take."

"And you're just going to leave Risky to die?" Drake's voice was tight with anger and another emotion that Levy identified as fear after a moment. The Ranger and the blind clone had begun to make their way across the hangar, ducking for cover every few moments, the Ranger firing on the Zygerrians intermittently with a small blaster she'd pulled from somewhere.

If Levy had not known Zara so well, he would have thought that the blue-skinned young woman was angry, but he could hear the waver in her words as she replied. "Risky will be okay for now...Master Altis has a ship not far from here, remember? You guys can head there and get him patched up...but I must do this, Drake. I'm sorry. "

"You're insane," Drake muttered, but he said nothing else as the Ranger and clone approached what Levy assumed was their ship, a beautiful MRX-BR Pacifier, one he'd only seen in holo-vids until now. It was not as sleek as the Deep-X that he'd worked so dutifully on for the past year, having more of an overall squat, rounded appearance, particularly in the two wings that fanned out from its sides; however, it had its own kind of character, evidenced in the myriad dings, patches and scrapes along the hull, indicating that this was a craft that had seen many adventures.

As he was wishing that he had time to study it more closely, a series of shots rang out to their right, forcing him, Zara and Drake to duck and step backward, inching their way behind stacks of crates toward the Pacifier. In the back of his mind he wondered if the Force had a dark sense of humor.

Before him, the Deep-X's engines were primed, and Levy could almost feel its ramp, several meters in front of him, trembling as if the ship was raring to go.

"Cover me?" Zara asked, sliding into a lower crouch as she prepared herself to make the final sprint to the Pacifier, where the clone – Tully – had already darted aboard while the Ranger covered the hatch, as if she sensed that something was taking place before her.

"No," Drake replied with a frown, raising his own weapon and shifting his weight from boot to boot as he crouched behind the cargo crate. "I'm coming with you. Levy...get to the Deep-X."

But Zara was shaking her head. "Drake, you can't possibly be serious..."

"And you can't possibly think I'd let you go off like that, with two complete strangers on some crazy quest...alone."

Although his brother didn't say it, Levy heard the subtext of his words:_ without me. _If Zara noticed, she didn't react to it, instead countering his statement with one of her own, as though heedless of the shrill blaster-fire, or the harried whine of ships' engines to either side of their position.

As they debated, Finn appeared in the hatch above them. "Guys...we need to go!"

Time slowed, but seemed to escape him anyway. Levy looked from Zara and Drake, arguing with one another, to the Zygerrians, who had sensed the group's imminent dissolution and were fast approaching, to the Deep-X, the ship he'd worked on so lovingly.

The realization struck him that he, Zara and Drake barely had time to reach the Ranger's ship, let alone the one that held his brothers.

Kriff, it would have been handy to have a voice right about now.

With a mental grunt of frustration, he cuffed Drake's shoulder in a rhythmic code known as _dadita_ – something that all clones learned on Kamino – that meant "time to move out," before reaching to Zara through the Force.

_If the two of you can shut up for three seconds, we need to leave immediately. Let them go, and we'll rendezvous with them later. _With that, he took a deep breath and turned to race for the Pacifier, and to the unknown. As he'd expected, Zara and Drake were on his heels, nonplussed but determined, and they were clambering past the Ranger and onto her ship moments later; Drake paused to issue a series of hand-gestures to their brothers in the Deep-X that Levy knew meant, _leave now, we'll meet up later._

Johari – Levy recalled her name – did not hesitate at the apparent change of plans. Instead, she shouted something to Tully, and the hatch began to rise as the four of them scrambled to the ship's interior while she covered them. Beyond one of the transparisteel windows, Levy could make out the Deep-X, rising into the atmo like a bird of prey, and he felt a pang of remorse that he might never see it – or his brothers – again.

It was short-lived, though, as Tully, cleared his throat from the helm. "You really want a blind guy to fly us out of here?"

Drake was still scowling at Zara, but at this he nodded to Levy. "We can get the ship to safety." The two young men slid into the helm and nav, respectively, while Tully rose. Levy took a moment to glance over the controls for the ship, but there was hardly any time, as they were suddenly rocked by a nearby shot being fired in their direction.

"Those crinking slavers got to their big cannons already," Tully snarled, his fists balling in frustration. "What I wouldn't give to be able to blast them into nothing."

"You should sit tight, instead," Drake replied in a cool voice. "It's going to be a bumpy ride." He looked at Levy, who was already punching in coordinates to the nav as the ground below them fell away. "We'll contact our brothers once we reach safety...ready, _vod?_"

Levy took a deep breath and nodded; a moment later the ship lurched forward, and the stars began to merge within his field of vision.

* * *

The whelp hadn't been kidding with the "bumpy ride" comment, but Tully decided that he'd rather chew off his own arm than admit that he'd been caught off-guard, so he made his way to the bulkhead in the cockpit, pulling down one of the fold-out jump-seats so that he could settle in and strap himself down. Across from his position, he could hear Jo and the Jedi kid speaking in hushed tones, but he ignored them for now, instead turning his head in the direction of the helm and listening for any warning alarms from the nav that would indicate an attack of some kind, or at least be able to tell what the younger clones were talking about.

However, there was only the quiet hum of the engines and the muffled sound of shifting fabric, and he frowned to himself. He knew for a fact that there had been five younger clones initially; however, he'd also been able to discern that only three folks had come aboard Johari's ship, one of whom being the Padawan, so that meant there were only two kids here. But for the life of him he couldn't hear them speaking to one another, which was more unnerving than not. Tully blew a breath out of his nose in frustration, then turned his face toward Jo and the girl, whom he'd heard was a Nautolan named "Zara."

"Your companions will be safe?" Johari was saying.

There was a pause, then he heard the Padawan reply in a quiet voice. "They will. We have...friends not too far away from here." He could imagine Johari nodding in her solemn way. She was likely sitting as she always had in the past, legs pressed tight together, hands folded in her lap, back straight, the very picture of one who was entirely self-contained.

Even though they had been almost identical, Johari was nothing like her sister, Miriam. As far as Tully was concerned, _no one_ could ever compare to his wife.

No, he thought, his _late _wife. Miriam – forever "Mira" in his mind – was one of the two people he tried not to think about, because it was just too painful. For one moment he was crushed beneath memories of Mira: the way the sound of her laughter could fill a room; the sensation of her hand in his as they walked; the movement of her body as she stood on her toes to kiss him...but there was one thing above all others that he knew would stick with him for the rest of his life, and the thought made his chest expand painfully.

If he could chose to see only one thing again, even only for a moment, it would be Mira's smile.

The soft murmur of his own name tugged him out of his reverie, and he straightened to face the direction of Jo and Zara. "Just because I'm blind doesn't mean I can't hear, you know."

There was affection in Jo's reply, though only a note of it, as the overlying tone was steady. "Zara here says that the crystal Atreus left us comes from Illum, Tully. She was asking if either of us had ever been."

"I haven't," Tully replied, crossing his arms before his chest. "Have you?"

A pause that was unlike her usual calm certainty. "Not that I know of..."

"Illum...that's only accessible via a hyperjump from Metellos," one of the younger clones said from the helm. "And from what I understand, we'll have to work pretty hard to stay under the Imp's radar along the way."

"Only a Jedi can find the planet," Zara added, shifting in her chair in a way that – to Tully – suggested uncertainty. "Ilum's not on any charts, but the crystal caves can be sensed through the Force. Assuming the Empire hasn't found and obliterated them all."

Tully nodded thoughtfully at this; as he recalled, there had been a skirmish of some kind on the icy world during the Clone Wars, the end result being that the secrecy of the planet had been leaked, at least to a small degree.

The clone at the helm spoke again. "Ilum's a big place. How are you going to find...what are you looking for, again?"

The Padawan's voice was wistful. "The Great Holocron, Drake. It contains the largest wealth of information in the Jedi Order; the knowledge contained within it has been passed down for thousands of years. Many, many great Jedi have added their wisdom."

"Rumor is that the Jedi Archives were seized by the Sith when the Empire took over," Johari added. "And most of the information it held has been locked away or destroyed. Bringing the Great Holocron to safety would mean the survival of the Order as we know it."

A pause, a rustle of fabric, then the young clone who'd been named "Drake" sighed. "Levy wants to know just _how _you're planning on finding it?"

Jo's reply held the assurance it did whenever she spoke of Rand. "Atreus didn't know exactly, but he told me that you would be able to uncover what we need to know."

"How?" The Padawan sounded uncertain.

Johari took a deep breath, and when she spoke again her voice was still calm. "I don't know, Zara. But I do know that Atreus was never wrong. He was strange, he could be silly, but he was never wrong about his visions. If he said you could do it..." Tully heard the Echani woman shift in her seat. "Then you can do it."

There was more silence, then Tully heard the kid up front clear his throat. "Zar...I need to talk with you for a second."

The Nautolan girl stood up, evidenced by the creak of the durasteel below her feet; he heard the lad at the helm rise as well, and noted that Jo went to replace the boy – Drake – so the two could have their little conference. They moved off into an adjacent compartment of the ship – the gunwell – which would have provided some measure of privacy, as the bulkhead of the vessel was pretty solid, and not especially good for eavesdropping under normal circumstances.

But Tully had not lived 'under normal circumstances' in many years, and in the last six months, after he'd been robbed of his sight, he'd decided that it was his duty to make full use of what advantages he _did_ have, especially when his family's safety was at stake. So he tilted his head back as if he was sleeping, and was able to hear every word.

"Zar-"

"Drake, before you say anything, I want you to try and understand that this – while it may seem silly and strange to you – is something that I feel I have to do. The Force has led me to this place, it must have, and I can't turn away from this task." She sounded firm, with that ring of Jedi-surety that had always made Tully a bit envious when Rand spoke in a similar way.

There was a pause, then the boy replied. "Zara, I get all of that. I know that you have to do certain things to be a Jedi, but this just seems beyond reckless to me. I mean, we don't even know these people."

"I looked into her mind, Drake. I saw the truth of her words. And this-" If he strained, Tully could hear the sound of fabric moving, as if she'd pulled something out of her pocket. "This isn't any old Adegan crystal – which are pretty rare to begin with. This is a Pontite crystal...a really powerful kind I've only ever seen in holos before now."

Before he spoke, the boy blew out his breath in a huff, the action reminding Tully a bit of himself, and he shook his head wryly, wondering if it was a clone thing.

"And? What does _that _have to do with anything? Say we get to Ilum and find this Holocron...then what? Finn, Keo...Risky: they're all out there...what if they don't make it to Altis' people in time? You said yourself that Risky was in bad shape. What if-" The word cut off with a choke, and the younger clone fell silent.

There was quiet, then the girl replied in a soft voice. "I have to trust the Force, Drake. The Force led us to Zygerria, and to Johari."

It took everything Tully had not to snort with laughter, as the whole concept of a 'higher-power' like the Force had always eluded him. Even when Rand had his visions, Tully had never been quite convinced that it wasn't just a part of the Miralukan's way of compensating for their species' lack of eyes.

After another beat of silence, Drake continued. "An Antarian Ranger. Okay, I've heard about them, and you say that she's being honest. But that clone who's with her," his voice dropped here, barely a whisper, but Tully could still hear him. "He's kind of a..."

Zara interrupted him. "I know, but he's a clone, Drake. Just like Traxis or Stonewall..."

Drake's reply was dark. "Not _every_ clone can be trusted, Zar. You, of all people, should know that."

Well, that was true enough. The last five kriffing years were certainly proof of that. Even though Tully had managed to pull his head out of his _shebs_ and make his own decisions, not all of the others did. Hell, only a fraction of them managed to resist the Order, from what he'd heard. However, as Tully turned the lad's words over in his mind, he found his thoughts returning to both the mention of _other_ clones – he presumed that's who "Traxis" and "Stonewall" were, anyway – and the mere presence of the younger clones currently on Jo's ship.

From what he could tell by their voices, they sounded about as old as Tully remembered himself and his squad-mates being when the wars started, but something was off...

However, he was again pulled out of his own head when the Padawan started to speak again, her tone softer and almost pleading. "Drake...please, trust me, okay?" Her pitch dropped to a whisper, and if his hearing had not gotten so good after he was blinded in the accident, he would not have caught her next words. "You used to trust me."

"Zar, I want to trust you_._ But I just can't bring myself to trust _them." _There was silence. Then a sigh, heavy as Drake added: "That's the best I can do, okay?"

More silence, then she spoke, in a different, gently chiding voice. "You're hurt..."

"My arm's fine."

"It's not, Drake. Let me take a look, please?"

The tone of her voice...

Tully was again riddled with an emotion he didn't want to identify when he recalled that Mira had spoken to him in a similar fashion on more than one occasion. He could almost feel her warm fingers pulling aside the plating of the armor that he'd once worn so proudly, in order to tend to whatever wound he'd managed to acquire. In his mind's eye, in the recesses his memory that were refusing to stay locked away, he could see her lips pursing as she would study the injury, just after which she'd glance up at him and give him the chiding look that he'd come to know better than the planes of his own face.

_What am I going to do with you, Tully? _Mira would say, her voice playful despite whatever dire situation in which they'd found themselves.

He remembered so clearly the day he replied, _you could start by marrying me._

At the words, Miriam had given a laugh that filled his heart and mind as she embraced his torso, whispering, _nothing would make me happier, _just before she leaned up to kiss him.

Overwhelmed with memory, Tully leaned his head back against the bulkhead, his eyes blinking hard beneath his blindfold, and feeling the bitter clench of anger and sorrow further harden within the confines of his heart.

* * *

_Meanwhile, across the galaxy..._

It was the deepest part of night on Prakith, and Corliss was dreaming. Usually the dreams were nebulous, flickers of images and distorted sounds, none of which she could make sense of in her conscious mind, but there were some that she remembered all-too-well upon her awakening. Those were the ones that were generally filled with strife and violence, with pain. With men in white armor whose faces were blank, merciless. There was nothing about those dreams, those nightmares, that she cared to dwell on once her eyes had opened.

Tonight, however, she was dreaming of Alatea.

Back in her old, dull life, before Antinnis – _Tremayne,_ she corrected herself – had shown her the true source of her power, she'd been apprenticed to a Keshiri Jedi, a young woman scant years older than Corliss had been, barely a Knight herself.

And while in Corliss' waking world all thoughts of the Jedi were edged with anger and resentment at their weakness, in her dreams, she recalled the bright sound of Alatea Shaan's laughter, and the way that the skin at the corners of her violet eyes crinkled when she smiled.

_Soft hair, pale as a star, wove between Corliss' own pink fingertips, as she and Alatea curled together beneath the shelter of a _baobab_ tree, on one of the planets where they'd found safe harbor during their flight in the years after Order 66. On this night, Corliss was restless, filled with claims that she could simply dispatch the clones who pursued them with her saber, leaving her and Alatea in peace at last. _

_However, in her way, Alatea only smiled at her apprentice and smoothed a strand of hair out of the Zeltron's face. "You're not afraid of anything, are you Corliss?"_

"_Not when I have you." Never in her life had Corliss been so certain of anything. This was love. It was real, it was right, and it granted her a kind of invincible strength like nothing else ever could._

_Alatea frowned, then turned her eyes up to the canopy, above which they could see twin moons were drenching the forest around them in silver. "You won't always have me, you know."_

_It was an oddly maudlin sentiment from the young female who was normally brash as any Corellian, and Corliss was puzzled at the phrase, choosing to dwell on that emotion rather than imagine the very real terror that would overtake her should _anything_ happen to Alatea. "Your capacity to love is so deep," Alatea added, turning her face back at her Padawan and looking so beautiful it took Corliss' breath away. "But I fear for you, as it means that you have a great capacity for anger and hate as well."_

"_But you love me anyway," Corliss teased, nudging the other young woman's hip with her own and ignoring the solemn tone of her teacher's voice. "Don't you?"_

_In the distance, the ground had started to shake, but here there was only the whisper of her own breath. _

"_Alatea...?"_

"Alatea..."

Corliss spoke to the darkness, but a male voice answered, one that she recognized after a moment.

"Acolyte Auset."

A tall, broad-shouldered form darkened the door of her room in the Citadel, only his silhouette visible: molded black ultrachrome armor clung to the Imperial Shadow Guard's upper body in a manner that mimicked that of the stormtroopers, complete with bell-shaped spaulders on his shoulders; a pair of sturdy, loose-fitting pants rested below a sleek leather belt; his boots were thick, with armored plating above his shins. The ensemble was topped with a molded, hood-shaped helmet that obscured his entire face, save for a slash of red where his visor rested over his eyes.

Corliss narrowed her eyes, wondering what _he _was doing here._ "_What do you want, Priam?"

"I have a message for you, from High Inquisitor Tremayne." As the Shadow Guard spoke again, his voice was evenly pitched, and she could detect nothing in his emotions – as usual – and it irritated her to no end that she was unable to read him; she knew that all of the Emperor's elite guardsmen were slightly Force-sensitive, trained to conceal their thoughts, but she didn't like the feeling of being nearly blind around them. Even those who were new to the rank of Shadow Guard – like Priam – were adept at hiding their emotions, in addition to being skilled warriors trained in a multitude of fighting styles, from Echani to Teräs Käsi. The combined nature of these 'talents,' such as they were, made Shadows like Priam Tor wholly intolerable.

Luckily there was only a small contingent of the Shadows at Prakith, but sometimes she felt as though the entire planet wasn't large enough to contain herself, the rest of the Inquisitorius and the Shadow Guards. It was a small comfort to know that most of the other Inquisitors felt the same way, but no one would ever disobey direct orders from the Emperor himself, so Inquisitor and Shadow alike simply tried to ignore each other.

However, as irritated as she wanted to be with Priam Tor, the mention of Antinnis' name made her sit upright in her bed. "And?"

As if lost to deliberation, Priam's head tilted a fraction of an inch, but she was quite certain that he was purposely testing her patience. "He says you are to report to the hangar bay, where your ship is waiting, and make for the Zygerrian system at once. There has been a sighting of an Antarian Ranger."

Corliss narrowed her eyes. "So? Who cares about them? I'm supposed to go searching for the Altisian Jedi in a few days." Why, she wondered, had her orders changed with no warning, and why had Tremayne not told her this himself?

"That doesn't matter. You are to locate the Ranger and bring her here for questioning," Priam Tor replied in his maddening, monotone voice. "You are to leave immediately." Without waiting for her reply, he turned and made to leave, but she leaped out of her bed and crossed the room in three strides.

"Why did he send you, Priam?" As she said the words she placed a light touch on his elbow, at which he stiffened and turned back to her, his red visor glowing in the dark room.

Rather than respond immediately, he simply faced her for a long moment, waiting as she grew inevitably angry at his reticence, then he spoke. "Perhaps he had more important things to do, acolyte. It isn't our place to question the will of our superiors."

Scowling, Corliss watched him disappear into the dark corridor, his armor making him seem little more than a walking shadow, then her throat moved in a tight swallow as she turned back to her room to collect her own far as she was concerned, Antinnis Tremayne was not just her teacher and master, he was...more. Much more. She was quite certain that she loved him, and thought – sometimes – that he felt the same way, although he was difficult to read.

Even so, he should have told her about the mission, himself. There was no reason to send a lesser like Priam Tor, none at all, unless...

Unless Priam was right, and Corliss was of so little consequence that Tremayne saw no reason to contact her himself.

_No, that can't be it,_ she told herself as she slipped out of her room and made her way towards the hangar. Certainly the High Inquisitor has other things to do than personally dole out each mission. Very likely he was at his desk, sifting through mountains of intel in the Inquisitor database as was his habit. The image pushed her previous agitation from her mind; instead, she smiled to herself and briefly wished she had time to say goodbye.

The journey to the backwater ball of dust that the slavers called Zygerria was – thankfully – not over long, even given the trudging speed of the craft which she'd been assigned, a Starwing-class fighter**. **Once there, she stepped into the heat of the late evening and approached the magistrate, a bulky female named Marjan with long, crimson hair, intricately woven with all manner of beads and baubles.

They retired to the woman's office in a nearby building. Corliss was served a glass of some vile drink that she supposed was a delicacy on this world, but to her it smelled – and tasted, she presumed – like bantha-piss. The magistrate wheedled before the representative of the Empire, her fear and apprehension evident in her every thought, despite the fact that she worked to keep her mannerisms confident.

"You are certain it was she?" Corliss asked, glancing at the holo-pic of the Ranger, a slender Echani woman with sloppily-dyed hair.

Marjan nodded, lacing her knotty fingers together in an attempt at calm, though she positively _stank _ of fear. "Very much, madame Inquisitor. The slave tenders got a good look at her, as did the security cams in our hangar."

The unctuous accent of the Zygerrian made Corliss want to roll her eyes, but she kept her face smooth, thinking of Tremayne's tutelage: he would always recommend containing her reactions unless their release would benefit her in some way. So she swallowed her disdain, and gave the Zygerrian a pleasant smile. "You know something else, don't you?"

The Near-Human's eyes flicked towards the door, but she seemed hesitant to speak. Finally she took a breath, seeming to choose her words with care. "Nubile slaves are not the only thing of value on Zygerria, Inquisitor. Many do not realize the inherent worth of accurate information...I wonder if your Emperor does?" As she spoke, she reached her hand into her pocket and the soft jingling of credits fell on Corliss' ears.

Did this scum really think she could extort an Inquisitor? Corliss nearly snorted with laughter. Instead, she laced her next words with namana-nectar. "Indeed he does. But for your sake, it would be better to share _everything_ with me, Magistrate. Free of charge. As we both know, those who impede Imperial investigations have a tendency to disappear in the night."

Inwardly, she preened at her words. Had he been present, she knew that Antinnis would have been pleased.

Marjan paused, then fearfully glanced around her office as if expecting stormtroopers to come bursting through door and window at any moment. "The Ranger was accompanied by a Miraluka man and a group of five younger Human men...and some kind of blue-skinned, Nautolan, though we didn't get usable footage of them before the commotion in the market started.

"However, the girl dropped this." She withdrew a small object from her pocket and handed it to Corliss; it was a slender bit of leather, with beads woven within the strands.

Corliss reached for the bauble and was immediately bombarded by sensations, images and memories that made her mouth fall open slightly as her semblance of control fell away.

It was _impossible_, it had to be a trick...Zara Karell was dead, as were all of the Jedi.

That was a lie. Not all the Jedi were gone, as she well knew. There were some who survived...but even so...

It _should_ have been impossible.

"Inquisitor Auset?"

Ignoring the Zygerrian, Corliss tightened her fingers around the bracelet and concentrated as best she could given the distraction of the magistrate. There were a flurry of images that she decided to sort through later, but the most obvious one was the face of a girl she'd thought long dead, looking down at a familiar-seeming white crystal.

Apparently, there was much knowledge to be garnered from the bracelet.

Not a moment too soon, Corliss managed to extract herself from the Zygerrian magistrate's office and make her way back to her ship. The pilot's seat of the _Starwing_ had been built for someone much larger than she, so when she slid into it, she felt dwarfed by the padded chair, but the feeling only lasted for a moment once she devoted all of her attention to studying the Nautolan tranquility bracelet in earnest.

It was made of slender, braided leather that she assumed was of sufficient durability to withstand the rigors of being constantly underwater. Seven coral beads were woven into the black cords, and the ends that had been tied together were frayed, as if they'd been ripped from the wearer's wrist.

However, the trinket's physical appearance mattered little to one with her psychometric abilities. Closing her eyes, Corliss reached into the Force and examined the bracelet on what she could only think of as a deeper level. Sometimes flashes came to her suddenly and without provocation, as had happened in the magistrate's office; other times it took a more direct, purposeful examination on her part to discern what she wanted to know.

The first image that flickered in her mind's eye was Zara. It was apparent that the blue-skinned girl had matured in the last five years; she looked more adult, with her curving _lekku _and facial structure indicating that her Twi'lek heritage had grown more apparent with age, though her eyes were the same, large and dark, pupils barely discernible within them. She wasn't dressed as Corliss remembered her, as a potential Padawan: in place of sand-colored robes there was only an indigo jacket that offset her pale blue skin, a black shirt and pants beneath.

She was laughing at something.

Still reaching through the Force, Corliss' eyes narrowed when she heard a voice – a male. Human. Probably in his late sixties, if not older. He looked a bit familiar, but she set the image aside to concentrate on the vision of her former friend. After a moment, Corliss picked up a string of words that indicated it was Zara's eighteenth life-day, and she figured that the bracelet had been a gift.

But surely there was _more_...

By her calculations, Zara would now be nineteen, and Corliss was well aware of just how much could happen in the short span of a year. Eyes still closed, she took a breath and reached deeper into the Force, fingers curled around the bracelet so that the beads grew hot within her hand. Indeed, within a few minutes her determination was rewarded with another vision, the clarity indicating that it was more recent than the last.

Water. The sensation was shocking after the dry air of Zygerria, and for a moment Corliss was disoriented by the vivid onslaught of sensation: cold water rushed around her head and ears, touching every patch of her skin until it felt as if she was immersed in it, and Corliss let out a small gasp despite the fact that she knew her body was safe and dry aboard the ship. Slowly, she re-oriented herself and was able to pull the vision apart and get a sense of what she was witnessing. Looking up, she realized that she was underwater, and that the sun was filtering through the depths to reach her.

The understanding was fleeting, for in the next moment there was a rush of water as the vision brought Corliss to the surface, and for the space of a heartbeat the only thing she could see were thousands of bubbles rippling past her as she breached the surface.

Nothing could have prepared Corliss for what she found. It was blindingly bright for a moment, so much so that she had to blink to adjust her vision, but when she did, her fingers gripped the arms of the chair – so far away in the _Starwing_ – and her mouth fell open at what she saw. She – or Zara, rather, as the bearer of the psychometric memory – was in a spring of some kind, surrounded on all sides by a thick, green jungle. Birds and insects sang in the air, and all around the melody of laughter permeated, the sound sharpening when a blue-eyed boy ducked past her, pursued by a little, dark-haired girl, both shrieking with mirth.

Beyond them, several figures were swimming or resting on a rocky shelf that edged the area, and it took a moment for Corliss to realize what she was looking at: clone troopers, quite a few, in various stages of health.

Odd, certainly, but aside from the twisting in her gut she felt when she thought of the men in white armor, she was able to ignore them for now. They were just clones, after all.

The vision moved her through the water, towards the shoreline, and she could make out several figures, males and females of varying species, engaged in some kind of hand-to-hand combat. Something stirred within her at their motions, but it was not until she was closer that the Force revealed what they were.

_Jedi. _

Corliss sucked in her breath as she studied the sparring Jedi on the shore she identified through their fluid movements and strong Force-presences, as none of them had sabers, or were dressed in the manner of the old Order. Among them, she could see a copper-haired woman, a blond Human girl, a Rodian male, and a dark-haired woman whose movements were a bit stiff and uncoordinated. There was also – oddly enough – a clone among them, though he moved with the speed and grace of a Jedi.

What was this place? More importantly..._where_ was this place?Besides the jungle, she could identify nothing else, so she tried to focus on the Jedi. But beyond a fleeting glimpse of the red-haired woman's face, she could make nothing out, for the vision ended and Corliss was thrown back into her rough reality.

Emerging from such a deep psychometric vision was always a bit of a daze, and for a few moments she leaned her head back against the chair, blinking as she tried to organize her thoughts.

_Jedi and clones, living together in a jungle somewhere. And that elder Human...he looked familiar. _

A hunch coiled in the base of her mind, and she reached forward to pull up the Inquisitor database. It was one of the many advantages to one in her position: complete access to all of the Empire's vast collections of intelligence. After a few minutes of searching, she felt a smile spread across her face.

_Djinn Altis. _The face that looked out at her from the screen was a few years younger than the man in her vision had been, but there was no doubt that it was the leader of the Altisian Jedi, the faction that the Emperor had been hunting in the years following the fall of the Republic. She felt a thrill of excitement at the realization that she would be playing a far more important role than dragging a mere Antarian Ranger back to Prakith.

If she could bring in not only Altis, but many of his followers... Corliss shivered at the thought of Tremayne looking at her with pride in his eyes, just before he bent his head to kiss her, as she had imagined so many times. The Jedi she'd seen must have been his students, as he was an unconventional man by all accounts, and was known to have more than one Padawan at a time.

Unbidden, Zara's face appeared in her mind once more, and Corliss figured that Altis and his supporters had a hand in however the other girl had managed to survive the fall of the Jedi. Lucky her.

For a moment Corliss was overcome with memories of her own experiences: racing through darkened streets, fleeing beside her old master from the inexorable terror of booted feet; darting from system to system, living as best they could off of whatever they could find; spending every moment in constant fear of discovery or capture, and of the terrors that would inevitably follow swift on the heels of such events.

Fear. Loss. Anger. The emotions swelled within Corliss, along with a tight kind of bitterness at the realization that her former friend had such an easy time of it while she herself had struggled and fought, while her beautiful Alatea had been cut down among the shambled remains of some village on a primitive, nameless moon.

It had been one of the worst moments of her life, hearing the last breath of her beloved master as she was killed just after Corliss herself had been incapacitated and buried beneath a shroud of dust and dirt, blinding her to all but her own pain and the final moments of the woman she had loved. Even though a new life had been handed to her after that moment, Corliss still felt bitterness towards the white-armored men who'd taken Alatea's. Tremayne had arrived on the scene too late to save the Keshiri, so he'd told Corliss later, and the clone troopers – the stormtroopers, now – had opened fire...

He could have helped Alatea as he had helped her, but all hope had been lost in fluttering bolts of blue plasma, and Corliss' jaw clenched at the memory.

Psychometry did not work the same for each of its wielders, or even each time for the same individual, but sometimes – when Corliss was attentive and focused – she could sense flashes of the future surrounding the energy of one who had touched whatever object she was considering. And in this case, as she returned every last bit of her focus to the bracelet...the Force whispered in her ear.

_Ilum_. Her former friend was headed for the ice-world, the home of the crystal caves. Corliss' mouth shifted into a predatory smile.

It seemed that her own path would cross with Zara's again, after all_._

* * *

_Whoa...another long chapter! Thanks for sticking with me. :)_

_From here until the end of the fic, we won't know what happened to Risky, Keo, Finn and Faye; rest easy, though, for the next fic in the series__ picks up where this one leaves off as far as their fates are concerned. It was a difficult choice to split off from their group, but the story necessitated it. _

_Also, while's he's not a POV character in this story, I'm happy that you guys finally get to meet Priam. He turned out to be one of my favorites, and has a pretty significant role in the sequel. :)_

___Shadow Guards are part of the EU; from what I could tell they were mostly found in games, so I may have taken some liberties with their depiction, as I have no idea about most SW video games._


	10. Dancing In the Dark

Song: "Swing," by Zero 7, from the album _Yeah, Ghost._

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Dancing In The Dark**

_There will be no unguarded kisses.  
Let go of my hand when they're around,  
They say I'm unsound.  
But what do they know?  
They can't figure out how to get down._

After a few more moments of reflection over the braided leather bracelet, Corliss decided that it was time to contact Antinnis. Slender fingers danced over the comm as she entered the secure code, after which she rose to kneel in her customary position as she waited for the transmission to be patched through. As always, her body seemed to quiver at even the thought of Tremayne's gray eyes settling over her frame; when his holographic image bloomed before her, she took a deep breath but kept her head ducked, waiting for him to address her before she spoke.

"Yes, acolyte?" His tone was curt, clipped. She wondered if he was in a meeting or some other place where it would be unseemly for him to speak her first name.

Corliss swallowed. "Master. I have information about the Altisian Jedi." There was a pause, during which she risked a glance upward, only to see him looking down at her, his frame seeming to fill her entire field of vision, though he made no response, so she continued. "A bracelet was found where the Antarian Ranger was spotted, near one of the Zygerrian slave markets. I sense that it belongs to a Jedi Padawan, one who has been in contact with Master Altis. It also seems that-"

"_Master _Altis?" Tremayne's voice was very low and dangerous on the word, and Corliss silently cursed her slip. But before she could rectify the error, the High Inquisitor spoke again. "The Jedi do not deserve such titles, acolyte. I thought that you knew as much, by now. Perhaps I have been remiss in your training..."

"No, Master," she replied, looking up to meet his eyes, which were narrowed at her indiscretion. "I said it as a title, only. I meant no overture of respect. Please..." Her head ducked again, dark hair falling like a veil around her face. "Forgive me."

The silence that followed made Corliss feel as though her heart were a bowstring of old, stretched between herself and Tremayne, and that her body was the arrow nocked and waiting for release. All she cared about in that moment was _seeing _him, _knowing_ that he cared for her on some small level.

"Please, Antinnis," she said, his name a whisper caught on the edges of her voice.

When he spoke again his tone was gentle, and she felt her body relax a little. "You are so gifted, Corliss," he said. "And so beautiful. But often I don't know what to make of you. I have done the best I can to train you, to encourage you to make full use of your talents, yet you balk at each effort on my part. Perhaps I made a mistake, three years ago when I saved your life."

_I am yours_, she wanted to shout._ I have always been yours, and I will always be. _If it had been possible to send him her thoughts through the Force, even over such a great distance, she would have. As it was, Corliss couldn't speak for the fear that had lodged in her another living being been present, it would have reeled at the heady mixture of pheromones and emotions that were roiling off of her.

Indeed, Tremayne seemed to realize the effects of his words, and he gave her a very small smile, more of a softening of his eyes upon her. "I suppose I shall have to test your true mettle when you return to me." The unspoken promise in his words made her fingertips ache, and her eyes darted back up to him again, hope welling within her heart. They looked at one another for a moment before he brought his hand to his chin in the way he did when he was considering something. "The Padawan...do you know his name?"

"Her name is Zara Karell," Corliss replied, shifting in her kneel to better look at him. "She's a Nautolan and Twi'lek hybrid." The words _we knew each other at the Temple_ formed in her throat, but for some reason they did not leave her mouth. "The magistrate said that the Ranger and the Padawan – in addition to some clones – fled the planet a day ago, dividing their forces between two vessels. They were unable to get a lock on the coordinates of either of the ships."

Her nose wrinkled at the idea of the Zygerrians managing to accomplish even the simple task, but at least _she _was not incompetent. Tremayne smiled at her at last, the sight of which made her heart attempt a leap out of her ribcage. "I take it that you know where the Padawan is headed?"

"She is in possession of an Adegan crystal," Corliss replied, sitting back on her heels and straightening her back, noting with satisfaction that Tremayne's eyes settled on her chest before he looked back at her face. "And she is going to Ilum."

His brow lifted. "That world was secured by the Empire years ago. What reason would she have to venture there?"

"The Jedi were careful," Corliss replied. "And the stormtroopers are stupid. Perhaps not all of the caverns were destroyed..."

"No matter," Tremayne said with a casual wave of his hand. He smiled at her again, and her heart fluttered. "You will bring her to me, Corliss."

Even through a flickering, imperfect hologram...he was beautiful. There was no one better, and she knew that there could never be anyone else for her_._ She nodded and made to stand, but he shook his head. "Master?"

There was a pause and she watched him seem to debate something. It was maddening, not being able to read the currents of his emotions through the pulsing hologram, and she felt herself growing impatient to hear him speak. Finally he leveled his gaze on her again. "Although this mission of yours has grown into more than I was expecting, this new development is something which I have hoped for. If we are successful, many things will change...for the better. Failure is _not_ an option, Corliss."

"It never is," she replied in a smooth voice. "I have never failed you, Master."

"Perhaps," he said idly. "But be that as it may, I'm ordering you to rendezvous with additional support, to insure that everything proceeds as it must. I shall send you the coordinates where you will meet them-" As he spoke he made to lift his hand to end the transmission, but Corliss interrupted him.

"I can handle the Padawan and a scruffy Ranger. The clones are a non-issue-"

When Tremayne spoke again, his voice was filled with ire, so much so that she cringed. "You forget your place, _acolyte_. You are to follow my instructions to the letter, and ask no questions...is that understood?"

Why she argued, she couldn't have said, but Corliss ducked her head as she spoke. "Master...please allow me the chance to prove myself worthy of the zeyd-cloth."

"You are not ready for the title of Inquisitor," he replied, his voice dark. "Nor will you ever be if you continue to defy me. You _will_ meet with the other agent of my choosing at the following coordinates, and when you return to me..." His pitch dropped further, and she felt a shiver – whether from fear or pleasure she couldn't have said – pass through her body at his next words. "We will _discuss_ your insubordination."

* * *

As he deactivated the holo-transmitter, Antinnis Tremayne smiled.

Even via hologram, the young Zeltron's emotions were transparent, and he could read her longing for him written across her features as surely as if it'd been tattooed upon her skin. It was difficult to walk the line he did with her, placing enough distance between the two of them to make her to yearn to reach across, while at the same time keeping her close enough to know that she was _his_, if not in body than at least in spirit, heart and mind.

Unfulfilled lust...it tethered her to him, which was the only reason he'd had yet to indulge himself of the young woman's supple flesh. After all, owning the body of a Zeltron was an easy enough accomplishment, but the possession of Corliss' whole self, the orienting of her considerable talents towards his own ends...that would be his greatest asset, one that – he hoped – would further anchor him into the good graces of Lord Vader and the Emperor.

However, despite Corliss' apparent devotion, there were times where he was uncertain, the feeling aggravated by her tendency to argue with him; additionally, Tremayne disliked her "slip" when she spoke of the leader of the Altisian Jedi. It was no surprise that she felt an attachment to the old Order – the rampant brainwashing of the Jedi was something of which he had firsthand knowledge – but it irked him to think that she was not as completely under his control as he would have preferred.

Deep within Citadel Inquisitorius on Prakith, he'd paused within one of the obsidian alcoves to receive Corliss' transmission, though he normally preferred to keep such conversations private so not to allow any of the others to glean even a minor understanding of his plans. However, since his meeting with his subordinate Inquisitors was set to begin in a few minutes, he continued on his way to the conference chamber, down one of the labyrinthine corridors within the Citadel.

As on the outside, the architecture within the Citadel was angular, from the columns that rested beneath the larger, domed chambers to support the stronghold's weight, to the narrowed hallways through which he traveled. The walls, floor and ceiling were all made of the same, highly-polished black stone that seemed to absorb all light, save for the recessed lamps placed at intervals along the seams. If he were to halt his steps, he would see his own face reflected back at him as if through a dark mirror. Save for the sound of his boots against the smooth floor, it was silent.

Without a pause, he contacted Priam Tor, one of the handful of the Shadow Guards who had been chosen to assist the Inquisitorius in their labors. When the holographic image of the cloaked man appeared at his wrist, the molded visage of his hood concealing all expressions and facial features. Only his head inclined slightly in acknowledgment.

"I have an assignment for you, Shadow Tor," Tremayne replied, reverting to the neutral title that all of this particular contingent of guards used. "You are available, I assume?"

There was a slight pause, as if the other man was considering. "I am at your service, Tremayne."

Tremayne did not miss the fact that the Guard did not use _his_ title, as was fitting and proper, but he had little time to debate the matter, especially with a fledgling member of the Shadows like the younger man. "You are to take a squad of soldiers and make to the following coordinates, where you are to assist Acolyte Auset in the capture and confinement of an Altisian Jedi."

"Very well," Tor replied, though Tremayne thought he detected a note of pleasure in the other man's voice, and recalled how he'd felt the other man's emotions spike – just once – the first time he'd been in Corliss' company. With this memory, an idea occurred to him, brilliant enough to alert him to the fact that the Force must have been with him in this matter.

Corliss was nothing if not predictable, and Tremayne was well-aware of the probable outcome of sending two young people off on a harrowing mission together...if she fell for the Shadow – even for an instant – Tremanye would know the moment she spoke to him, and he also knew that guilt was a more effective method of coercion than any amount of force. It would provide, he mused, another way to bind her to him.

And it would be so easy to incite.

So, after pausing outside of the meeting-chamber where the others were to meet him, Tremayne cleared his throat. "I will emphasize, Shadow Tor, that you are to assist Auset _only _with the mission parameters you've been given. _Nothing_ further. Is that understood?" The subtext was clear: _she is forbidden to you. Stay away. _

"I shall perform my duties as laid out to me by the Emperor himself," the Guard replied, placing a slight emphasis on the word _Emperor_. There was another pause, deliberate, before Tor spoke again. "Be at ease, Tremayne. Your acolyte will succeed in her mission, for the betterment of Imperial rule."

Despite the even pace of his words, the Shadow Guard's tone emitted a brief flare of irritation, which Tremayne only noted because he was listening for it.

"How fortunate that we are on the same side," Tremayne said, keeping his gaze steady. He ended the transmission without saying anything further, then smiled to himself once more even as he heard the Inquisitors approaching his place beside the door to the meeting chambers. As much as he despised most of his subordinates, it was necessary to ensure that vital information was communicated to each of them at regular intervals, and the easiest way to do so was through these infernal meetings.

However, necessity didn't equal enjoyment.

"You seem pleased with yourself." The accented voice of a Pantoran female broke into Tremayne's thoughts. Looking up, the High Inquisitor noted the petite, burgundy-haired woman as she cocked a brow at him. "Did you pass by a mirror?"

Tremayne's smile widened. "Always a pleasure to see you, Inquisitor Umari. Tell me...have you settled into your new position?"

Eshe Umari's pale-blue face darkened with irritation at his obsequious tone, but her voice was entirely cool. "Quite well, thank you. In fact, I already have several notions on how the effectiveness of the Inquisitorius can be improved."

Of course she did. The Pantoran was skilled in interrogation methods – almost as much as Tremayne was – but she was far too eager to improve her standing among the Inquisitors for the High Inquisitor's liking. Clearly, she needed to be taken down a few notches.

So he gave her his most patronizing smile and spoke again. "I'm so glad to hear that you are settling in. I know first-hand how difficult the transition to the Inquisitorius can be for a former Jedi, let alone a mere Agri-Corps member such as yourself. It is good to see that you have adapted so well, despite your lack of affinity with the Force."

The flush of darker blue across her face proved that his tactic had succeeded, and before she had a chance to reply, Tremayne swept past her and into the waiting room.

* * *

Actually, his arm hurt like hell, but Drake was not about to admit it to Zara, even as she leveled her dark eyes upon him while they stood in the gunwell of the Ranger's ship. Thankfully, he was able to return her gaze without revealing his true feelings, including the fact that every iota of his focus was on her hand as it rested on his forearm.

"Let me take a look, please?" Her tone had changed from its earlier one, softening with notes of worry, and he could read agitation in the trembling of her _lekku. _

So the clone sighed, slipped out of his jacket and pulled up the short sleeve of his shirt to reveal the blaster-burn; luckily, it had not been a direct impact but the skin had been grazed, and where the plasma had touched him the flesh was red and angry. Surprisingly, she gave him a little smile before she placed her hands on either side of the wound and closed her eyes in concentration. Her hands were cool and soft, though he could feel the callouses that had been created from hours of lightsaber practice.

As she accessed the Force to heal his humble flesh, her lips parted slightly and her breathing slacked – it was that way, he'd learned, when she was healing; she seemed to enter another plane of existence, a place that he could never hope to follow. Often he envied Stonewall the elder clone's ability to wield the strange energy alongside his wife, even though he'd seen just how heavy a burden it could be. But, he reasoned as he watched Zara, Stonewall and Kalinda had each other to share the load, and they were stronger because of that fact_. _

Moments after she began her attempts his arm began tingling in a pleasant way; there was a cool, trickling sensation along the burned flesh, a feeling that he likened to droplets of water rolling across his skin. Fascinated, he watched the swelling retreat even as the pain ebbed entirely in the wake of Zara's healing.

Then her eyes opened and they looked at one another, and he realized that they were only a breath apart. Neither one spoke for a moment until he found his voice. "Thanks, Zar. It does feel better." As if to illustrate, he flexed the muscles of his arm and gave her what he hoped was a casual smile to conceal the race of his heart.

Her cheeks darkened to indigo, the tips of her _lekku_ flushing in a similar fashion, and she nodded and stepped away from him. "You're welcome."

Despite the flush over her skin, there was nothing in her voice besides professionalism, so he swallowed his own feelings as well as Stonewall's words came back to him: _try to live with it, _vod'ika_. It'll be hard, and it'll likely hurt, but if what she wants isn't you, then you must respect that choice._

Whatever it was that had been between them was easier to handle while he was on the move all the time with Trax and Ares, when they only saw each other every few months, they could each pretend that neither was troubled by the past. Now, he knew he needed to be careful. Letting his feelings get the better of him was a dangerous road to travel, especially when he knew it was, in fact, a one-way sentiment.

However, things unspoken were unnecessary burdens that he didn't want to carry with him on this journey, so Drake cleared his throat. "You've become a really great Healer," he said in as calm a voice as he could manage. "All that study and training has paid off, and I'm happy for you."

Of course there was more he could have said, but he waited for her reaction. Sure enough, her forehead creased for one moment before she nodded. "Thanks. And...I'm glad that you were able to pilot us out of Zygerria. You've gotten really good at flying."

"Experience is everything," he replied, thinking of his time aboard the _Stark Raven_ with his brothers, Traxis and Ares. "Guess we've both come a long way."

Despite everything else that was between them, he really didn't want to be awkward around her, and he thought – he hoped – she felt the same way. To his surprise, she nodded again, and then gave him a hesitant smile. "It's good to work together again, isn't it?"

The words were a white flag. It was time to move on from the past, so Drake met her eyes. "It is." A few moments of silence stretched between them before he nodded in the direction of the helm. "We should get back. We've got a Holocron to find, don't we?"

Not until she stepped past him and through the door that lead to the cockpit did he release a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and then he was able to follow.

The Antarian Ranger and Levy were in the pilot and nav stations, respectively, and the clone Tully was standing between them, his blindfolded face awash in a haze of blue light as they tunneled through hyperspace. As Drake and Zara approached, Levy turned around and lifted his hands. _I finally got a transmission from Finn, _he signed. _He was able to get a lock on our codes just before we parted ways...they're on the way to Altis' people. Risky's unconscious, but alive._

_Good to hear,_ Drake replied in the sign-language, though he still felt a pang of guilt at the separation from his brothers.

The slender, pale-eyed woman glanced back at Zara. "From what I could glean from the old Ranger database on the _Dance_, it will take us about a day along the Perlemian Trade Route to reach Metellos, which is the only place where we can make the jump to Ilum."

"That sounds good." Zara was quiet for a moment, then shot a curious look at the Ranger. She had also come to stand behind the helm, and Drake watched the interplay of starlight along her face as she spoke.

"Are there many Rangers left?" the Padawan asked. "I heard that they were hunted down along with the Jedi, just like anyone who openly supported the Order."

"I'm not certain," Jo replied, her eyes turned towards the viewport. "Very likely some of them were able to go into hiding, as we have many secret bases scattered throughout the galaxy, but in truth I haven't seen or heard from any other Ranger since a few years after Order 66 went out."

Tully exhaled and frowned, shuffling his weight from foot to foot as he leaned over the back of the Ranger's chair. "Yeah, and we've been a little too busy trying to survive these past six months to worry about contacting Jo's old Ranger buddies."

There was something challenging in his tone, though it was underwritten with a thick sort of remorse that Drake didn't need the Force to sense. Clearly, Tully wanted to change the subject. He figured that Zara picked up on it as well

"Atreus Rand...I'd heard of Jedi Seers, but never his name. Is he...alive?" Zara's throat moved in a tight swallow, and her eyes fell to study her hands.

The Antarian Ranger shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I don't know..." Here she paused, seemed to collect herself, and then continued. "Much of my memory of the last few years is spotted. All I know for certain is that he asked me to ensure that the Great Holocron would be kept safe, and returned to the Jedi as soon as possible."

"Your memory is...spotted?" Drake asked with a frown from his place against the bulkhead. "What does that mean? Are you kriffing insane or something?" At the words, Tully inclined his head slightly, but said nothing.

Johari seemed uncertain, then took a breath. "I think he did a mind trick on me, to make me forget...well, I'm not sure, actually. I have the crystal, and some rather broad coordinates, but that's it. I suppose it was the safest precaution to prevent the Holocron from falling into the wrong hands, should I ever be captured."

"That won't happen, Jo," Tully spoke up. He'd taken to leaning on the other side of the ship, back stretched out and arms crossed before his chest, mirroring Drake's posture. "Because they'd have to get through me, first. And nobody gets on the wrong side of an ARC trooper unless they're suicidal."

At these words, Drake and Levy each lifted their heads and looked at Tully. "You're an ARC trooper?" Drake asked, awe tinting his words despite himself.

The elder clone gave a sarcastic salute. "War's over, kid. But yeah, I was an ARC."

Levy's hands lifted and Drake voiced the words. "A captain?"

"Lieutenant," Tully replied, his mouth stretching into a grimace. "Special Ops, assisting General Rand." The tone of his voice was dark in a way that suggested the conversation should end there, so Zara looked at Johari again.

"I never thought I'd get to meet an actual Antarian Ranger," she said. "It seemed like kind of an exclusive organization. I know that your efforts during the war were appreciated."

The silver-eyed woman cut her gaze to Zara and gave her a faint, sad smile. "Much the same can be said of the Jedi, can't it?" Zara's _lekku_ bobbed as she nodded, but Johari shook her own head. "It's an arduous path to walk, but I managed. Leaving Eshan was the hardest part, actually." She paused, then glanced at Zara once more. "My ship, the _Spiral Dance, _is the only remnant of that life that I've been able to retain. Which reminds me...Tully?"

The former ARC made a noise of acknowledgment, and Jo continued. "Ilum is cold and hostile. How much of our supplies do we have left?"

"Most, actually," he replied, standing more upright. "Didn't know where we'd be headed, so I only traded in a few things on the dustball those slavers called a planet. But," he added with a scowl. "We should have waited and gone to a friendlier place; only got a fraction of what those halpiton circuits were worth, and that thieving _chakaar_ of a merchant tried to pull a fast one on me."

At this, Zara straightened. "We have a little bit of money. If you have some gear, I think between us we'll be able to manage."

The mention of their funds – Kalinda had actually given Zara a considerable amount of cash, though Drake knew that much of it was aboard the Deep-X – made him wince. It wasn't the smartest thing to talk about with relative strangers, even ones whose minds you'd peeked into, but he realized after a moment that he was more bothered by the idea of Risky, Keo and Finn – arguably the three least fiscally-sensible people he'd ever known – alone in the galaxy with a fast ship and handfuls of creds.

With this thought came an image of Risky, bleeding, lying at his feet, and Drake felt his irritation flee in the wake of his worry.

But the Echani woman was shaking her head. "We should have adequate cold-weather gear, though I'm not sure we're equipped to accommodate a Nautolan," she added, glancing at Zara.

"Mostly Nautolan," Zara replied with a shrug, pulling out the crystal once more and considering it as she spoke. "A little Twi'leki. I'm kind of a mutt, I guess." Her tone was casual, but Drake found himself grimacing at her words, because he knew quite well that there was no one else in the galaxy like her, nor would there ever be.

However, saying such silly things would have been pointless, so he held his tongue; instead he decided to place some kind of distance between himself and Zara for the time being. "I can go take a look around the hold," he offered in a genial voice. "May as well make myself useful when I'm not in the pilot's seat, saving our _shebse._"

He turned to go, but Tully was beside him in an instant, making for the door that lead to the gunwell. "Sure thing, kid. Let me show you around." They slipped out of the cockpit and into the small room that held the controls for the ship's blaster cannons, then out the right side to a room with a round dining table and chairs, complete with a galley, conservator and storage compartments for food.

"Lounge," Tully said, then pointed to the right. "'Fresher's in there. The other side of the ship has the bunks; me and Jo each have our own, so you three will have to work out who gets the other two. Engine room's in the center, and through here's the cargo bay."

Tully activated another door and they stepped into one of the cleanest, most organized cargo holds that Drake had ever seen. Rows upon rows of crates, barrels and boxes were stacked neatly against the wall, no more than one deep, and each was outfitted with a panel of raised, Aurebesh letters.

"I have a system," Tully said without preamble, giving Drake what surely was probably a glare from beneath his blindfold. "Don't screw it up, or you'll be on the receiving end of my boot up your _shebs._"

"Understood, _sir_," Drake replied, frowning at the unwarranted hostility in the elder clone's voice and responding with a healthy dose of sarcasm. As he turned to examine one of the crates, he felt himself being grabbed and roughly shoved against the bulkhead.

Tully's voice was low and quiet, but there was steel behind his words. "Like I said, _kid,_ the war's over. No one on this ship goes by 'sir,' but that woman up there _will _receive the highest level of respect from you and your brother. Now, I may have my doubts about the Padawan, but I'm going to trust Jo's judgment when it comes to Jedi-related matters. But as far as _I'm_ concerned, you two are unknown elements, which makes you dangerous until you can prove otherwise to me."

"We're all on the same side, you know," Drake replied, wrenching his shirt out from Tully's grasp. "And a Jedi trusts us, so you should, too."

"Trust isn't a _gift_," Tully replied in a dark voice. "It has to be _earned._ If you don't know that, kid, you're in for a rude awakening on this – hopefully brief – little jaunt."

"_Drake_."

The blindfolded clone frowned. "What?"

Taking a breath, Drake drew himself up to his full height, so that he and Tully were face-to-face, and he tried to fight back the surge of anger he felt at the implied accusations in the elder clone's words. "My name...it's Drake. I worked hard to get it, so I'd appreciate it if you dropped the 'kid' bit."

Rather than react with anger, as Drake had prepared himself for, Tully only chuckled at him and moved to a nearby crate labeled 'cold weather gear,' which he opened and began to withdraw an assortment of clothing. "Right. How old are you...seven, eight years? Have you even _seen_ a real battle, or were you still in flash-training when the war ended?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Drake replied with a scowl. "But Lev and I are about fourteen or fifteen standard years old. Give or take a few months. Biologically, we're about twenty-one or twenty-two."

Tully actually sounded surprised. "Really? You sound...younger. Did the long-necks do something screwy to your genes?" He sniffed a jacket that was in his hand before setting it back down with a frown and pulling the crate away from the wall, separating it from the others and indicating that Drake should sort through it.

"We got a hold of the rapid-aging cure," Drake replied, stepping over and peering within the crate's contents. Inside were an assortment of fur-lined cloaks and boots, and he wondered if he could fashion something for Zara to protect her sensitive _lekku. _Absently, he fingered the soft furs as he added: "You know, the one from Kal Skirata?"

The blindfolded clone went very still at the words, so Drake turned to him, curious. After a moment, Tully exhaled out of his nose. "So it is true. We'd heard a rumor, but never got a chance to look into it."

The former ARC's tone was solemn and a bit sad, the sound of which startled Drake enough to step forward as he puzzled over the elder clone's initial reaction; however, after a moment of reflection Drake realized that he'd taken the cure – and the doors it opened for himself and his brothers – for granted. Along with many things, he supposed, thinking of Mundali.

"I know where to find more of it," he said, keeping his voice casual, as if they were discussing the weather. "Maybe when all this is over..."

"Yeah," Tully replied, though he was shaking his head. "Maybe." There was a moment of quiet, then his head tilted down and he nudged a nearby crate with the toe of his boot, giving a soft, bitter laugh as he did so.

Drake knitted his brows, wondering at the former ARC's shifting moods. "You okay?"

Tully gave a deep sigh, then shrugged. "Sure thing, kid," he said with another, dark chuckle. "Just taking a moment to appreciate the irony of my life."

* * *

Once Drake and Tully had slipped out of the cockpit, Zara looked up at the Ranger. "Thank you again for coming to our rescue back there. I guess the Force was with us on Zygerria, after all."

At this, the silver-eyed woman gave a duck of her head in acknowledgment. "It is the duty of every Antarian Ranger to support the Jedi, Zara. I'm only glad to be able to fulfill my role again. It's been...a long time."

The words were hushed, and Zara got the sense that there was much sorrow surrounding this woman, even if she didn't speak of it. She thought that Kalinda would have not pressured Johari to talk, so Zara chose to let her curiosity go unsatisfied for a while longer; she'd seen the interior of the Ranger's mind, and knew that Johari's intentions were pure, even if her past was shadowed.

Levy shot Jo a brief, almost shy glance, and then lifted his hands; Zara watched as the Ranger studied his movements carefully even though she repeated the words aloud so Jo could understand._ You're Echani, aren't you? I could tell by your fighting style_.

"I am," Jo replied with another nod. She paused, then gave him an unreadable look. "Although, I am not allowed to return to Eshan." Sensing the questions from such a statement, Johari explained. "By and large, my people are not travelers; instead of the stars, we turn our view inwards, mostly towards the movements of the body during a fight. To an Echani, only two things matter: the fight, and the family. One keeps the other safe, and one gives reason to the other.

"But I chose to leave our homeworld," she added after a moment. "And I didn't look back until Mira came to join me. I suppose my mother thought that I'd talked her into leaving, for it was then that she expelled me from our clan and named me an outsider."

The words were spoken without emotion, but something told Zara not to pry further. However, Levy tilted his head and raised his hands again. _Mira? _

Zara said the name in a hushed voice. Johari's eyes closed, briefly, as she answered. "My younger sister, Miriam. She was...killed about six months ago, when the Empire ambushed us."

There was silence in the cockpit for a moment, so much so that Zara thought she could feel the blood coursing through her veins. Finally she couldn't stand it any more, so she cleared her throat and tried to change the subject away from what was clearly a delicate matter. "Is there a place I can meditate? It might help me figure out what to make of this." She pulled the crystal out of her pocket as she said the words.

"We have a few spare cabins, actually," the Ranger replied in a steady voice, as though their conversation moments ago had not occurred. "They're through the airlock behind you that leads to the gunwell, then to the left. Tully and I each have our own, so you three are free to divide the other two cabins as you see fit."

Levy glanced at her, and she felt the brush of his thoughts in the Force. _Drake and I can share. _

After thanking Jo and nodding at Levy, Zara slipped out of the helm and made her way towards the interior of the ship. The cabin that she selected for herself was sparse, but comfortable, outfitted with a single, small bunk against the wall, a rounded porthole, and not much else. The walls were bare. The only color in the room was some type of wool blanket draped over the bed, which Zara took a moment to study: it was a pattern of concentric circles in various stages of overlapping, the colors bright and vibrant. Save for the hum of the ship's engines, it was silent, and as she settled on the bunk, Zara glanced out the window to the space beyond.

She knew that Drake thought she was being foolish about the Great Holocron, but within the confines of her mind and heart alike, she also knew that the currents of the Force were urging her in this direction. On more then one occasion she'd been told that she had good instincts...well, her instincts indicated that she could trust Johari Senna, and by extension Tully.

With a sigh, Zara slid out of her boots and sat cross-legged on the bed, the crystal cupped in her hands, thinking that she could maybe try and glean something from it with the Force. Ilum...she'd never been, as there had been no time nor resources for anyone to take her when she constructed her first saber years ago on Coruscant.

For a few moments she studied the small object, feeling it grow warm from the contact with her skin, until she felt her vision relax and her mind begin to drift.

Minutes passed, but the crystal revealed nothing, until she blinked and sighed.

Corliss would have been able to figure it sudden thought of her friend made her eyes prick. Of course her friend was dead, she was sure, along with most of the other Padawans she'd known. Zara was well-aware of how lucky she'd been in the turmoil that followed the collapse of the Jedi Order, and she also knew that she shouldn't dwell on the past, because she could change nothing about it.

Even so, she missed her friend.

Honi would have advised her to do her best and work with what she had, so Zara took another breath and closed her eyes again, trying to relax. It felt like hours passed until slowly, so slowly, a thought came to her. It was not a vision, like Corliss used to describe, but it was more of a feeling, an idea, that gradually turned into a ripple of the Force that she felt strung through her consciousness. Like a river, moving to a distant sea, she felt the pull of it in her mind...towards the northernmost pole of the ice-planet. Just before it ended, she caught a brief flash of something like a rainbow, an image that filled her with hope.

Maybe she could do this, after all.

* * *

_Little more exposition about Jo and Tully - and poor Mira. :( And you get to meet Eshe Umari - yet another OC who will come into play more in the sequel. _

_As always, thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you can; I love to know what y'all think so far!  
_

_Next week: Ilum. :)_

_Hey, guess what? I have a new story coming out soon! :D Check my profile for more info.  
_

_In other news, Star Wars Celebration VI is this August! Woot! Myself and a few other authors around these parts are going, and we're toying with the idea of having a fanfic dot net gathering/meet up of a sort at the convention. Interested? PM me and we can discuss. :)  
_


	11. Kaleidoscope World

Song: "Antarctica," by the Weepies, from the album,_ Hideaway._

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Kaleidoscope World**

_Under ice there's a world moving slow; _

_Carnelian stars and the bars down below, _

_Serve only vodka and gin._

_I try to stay drunk, so nobody knows._

The moment that her eyes fell upon the ice world of Ilum, Johari felt the coils of her memory loosen, just a little bit.

"There," Zara breathed, stretching her hand out to gesture at the planet before them; the dark side they were facing was ringed with a pale-blue halo. "The caves we want are over there..." As she spoke, everyone except Tully turned their gaze towards the direction of her hand, and a kind of hushed quiet fell over the group.

During the last twenty-two hours of their journey from Zygerria to Metellos, Drake and Levy had remained at the helm and nav almost the entire time, and Jo found that she didn't mind in the slightest, especially since they each turned out to be fairly skilled at avoiding Imperials. From his place Levy frowned, then looked at the blue-skinned girl. After a moment his hands lifted to form a series of words. _Can you be more specific? Even with your Force senses, it's a big place._

Even after hardly a day in his company, Jo had learned to pick up the gist of the mute clone's gestures, as they were relatively simple to understand once she put her mind to it.

The Padawan shot him a wry look that he returned, then closed her eyes. Jo didn't miss how Drake kept his eyes firmly on the planet before them, almost as if he was purposefully trying not to look her way. Something about his reticence struck a chord within the Echani woman, and she felt a welt of regret appear within her heart, like a bruise that one had thought had healed over, only to have it struck and the pain begin all over again.

Finally, Zara opened her eyes and nodded, leaning down between the seats to point to a place on the surface near the northern pole of the icy world. "Head for that glowing area."

Everyone started at the strangeness of the words, but after a moment Johari could indeed see what the Padawan was talking about. As Drake angled the _Spiral Dance _closer towards the planet's surface, she could make out what appeared to be rivers of light shimmering in the upper atmosphere. Colors in varying shades of bright green, yellow, pink and blue rippled in luminescent patterns below them, giving the appearance of tongues of lambent flame just above the planet's surface. Above the wavers of light, a faint halation glowed softly into the blackness of space.

It was then that Jo was struck with a memory, pulled from some hidden compartment in her mind.

"_Do you know how beautiful you are, to me?" Atreus asked as he ran his hand along her cheek. Even wrapped almost completely in furs and thick padding Jo was bitterly cold, and her face was exposed so she could see where she needed to walk as they left the cave's entrance. "Your spirit, it's like...something variegated. Something shifting and luminous...like... " _

_He paused, uncertain, then frowned. "Give me a moment to find an appropriately romantic analogy."_

_At the words she smiled at him, though she noted how the edges of his dark hair that peeked out from his parka were tipped with frost. "Atreus, we need to go. It's almost full dark, and it's only going to get colder." _

_As she spoke, his pale skin suddenly seemed illumined with a rainbow of light and she looked up, letting out a small gasp of surprise at what she saw. The sky was filled with rivers of color, swirling and serpentine against the blackness of space. Sensing her shifting attention, Atreus tilted his head up, the sight comical because of the blindfold around his eyes. "What is it?"_

"_The Rangers call it 'skyfire.'" Her mouth was open and her voice was breathless. "It's...it's like a river made of light and color in the atmosphere, caused by the magnetic field of the planet. I've only seen holos of it before..."_

"_I take it by your tone that it's pretty?" His own voice was sardonic, and she laughed outright._

"_It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." _

_The Miralukan man's face was suddenly very close to hers, and he was smiling as well. "So you understand how I feel, then?"_

"Skyfire," she heard herself saying as Drake angled the ship down. At the looks from the others she took a breath and forced her hands to be still, as they were trembling. "The pattern of light that you can see in the atmosphere...it's called skyfire. We're headed in the right direction."

Tully turned his face to her, his brows knitted. "You can tell that from some phenomenon in atmo?"

Something hot pricked behind her eyes, but she forced the sensation back. "Yes, Tully."

"Great," Drake said from the helm. "Then we're on the right track, I guess."

* * *

Once he'd disembarked from the _Spiral Dance, _Levy decided that he officially _hated_ snow.

As they'd been coming in to land, Johari had begun doling out an assortment of thick clothing; at first he'd been reluctant to believe that _all_ of it would be necessary, and had eyed the cumbersome, fur-lined parka warily. As if sensing his thoughts, the Echani woman had shaken her head. "Have you never been to a world like Ilum?"

Before he could answer, Tully jumped in. "Had a mission on Rhen Var during the war...the 'tronics in my brother Wing's suit got fried during a storm. He would have frozen to death within a few minutes if we hadn't gotten him back to the ship. That kind of cold you don't forget in a hurry...and Rhen Var's considered a paradise compared to a place like Ilum." The elder clone's voice was dark, particularly when he'd spoken of his brother, after which he frowned and muttered something unintelligiblebefore heading out of the cargo bay.

The instant Levy had stepped out of the ship, he'd been assaulted by a blast of frigid air, and for a few moments he was disoriented by both the thick nighttime and the freezing temperature, and decided – grudgingly – that he was thankful for the insulated clothing, after all.

There were two moons above the icy world; presently one was full and the other was merely a slim crescent, as if a shadow of the first, which provided enough light for him to see the vast stretch of snow that seemed to extend forever. After pausing to lift the protective goggles he wore, he could see mountains in the distance, jagged peaks reaching for the darkened sky; in the group's immediate area there were only rolling drifts of snow, alternately shadowed and silver-white by the light of the moons.

It was silent, save for the crunch of ice beneath the boots of his companions, and the sound of the ship's engines as they cycled down. An exhale sent the eddies of his breath spiraling before him, only to be carried off by another gust; again thankful for the gear, Levy replaced the goggles and glanced beside him, where Zara was standing, staring out across the plain.

Drake came up on his other side, with Jo and Tully beside him, and for a moment the five of them stood and looked out over the frozen landscape. "I feel...stronger," Zara said after a moment, flexing her gloved hands and studying them before peering around her, her face barely visible behind the layers of her gear. As silly as he thought she looked, he knew that he and Drake appeared much the same way. "Like the Force is stronger here than I'd thought it would be."

"The localization of the crystals, perhaps?" Johari asked, the wind ruffling the edges of the furs that surrounded her face. "I've heard other Jedi speak of the crystals enhancing their abilities to a degree."

"Maybe," Zara replied with a shiver. The hooded parka they'd found for her was several times larger than whatever she normally wore, so it could be large enough to accommodate her _lekku_ beneath it, giving her the appearance of having a hunchback; the sleeves were far too long for her arms and had been rolled up so that she could use her hands, but Levy watched as she began to push them down so that even her gloves were obscured by the sleeves.

From the depths of his own parka, Drake took a breath, then glanced at Zara behind his yellow-tinted goggles. "You're sure this is right? There's nothing here but ice..."

"I can feel it," Zara added, stepping forward. "The Force is incredibly strong here...but there's kind of a pull that way," she added, indicating a direction. There was a deeper, more resonant tone to her voice when she spoke of the strange energy, and Levy felt a chill pass through him that had nothing to do with the wind. They began to walk through the night.

The skyfire had faded away, but the moonlight was more than enough to illuminate their path, so no one had to use any of the lamps in their gear as they trudged along the snowdrifts. The wind snickered through Levy's parka; it seemed determined to seek out any warmth that his body could collect and steal it from him, and for the first twenty or so minutes of their journey, he was miserable. Teeth starting to chatter, he tried to recall the thick, humid air of Mundali and the pleasant feeling of being warm, but it had no effect against the wind.

"I remember this," Johari said. "That way...there should be a ridge of thicker ice that we'll pass along the way." She'd been walking beside him, letting Drake and Zara take the lead, as the Padawan seemed to have a preternatural sense of where they were headed, while Tully stalked behind, his head swiveling as if searching for danger. Sure enough, a few minutes later they crested another hill and Levy could clearly see the spine of ice that she'd mentioned, and he was heartened by the realization that they weren't wandering quite as aimlessly as he'd feared.

Thinking to ask the Ranger if she remembered the journey being this long, Levy lifted his hands, though he realized at once that he couldn't communicate much since they were covered in layers of thick fabric.

But in her strange fashion, the Echani woman seemed to understand. "I think Atreus and I had the same problem when we came...the ice sloes in this area means it isn't stable enough to land a ship, and we had to travel for quite a while before we reached the caverns."

"That reminds me," Tully spoke up from the rear, his voice managing to carry even over the wind. "Everyone watch your step...I don't want to have to pull any of you lot out of the ice if it breaks."

"I read about areas like this in the Archives," Zara spoke up, glancing around at them. "Most of the Adegan crystals were found in caves to the south of here, but there were some caverns that were harder to find...and reach."

At this, Levy glanced up and realized that the area of snowdrifts was ending, leading up to a flat stretch of ice – a frozen lake. They reached the edge and, after some careful maneuvering, managed to clamber down to what appeared to be a slender fissure of rock and ice beneath the largest drift.

After exchanging looks with the Ranger, Zara made to step forward, but Drake caught her arm. "Let me check it out, first."

It was impossible to make out her expression given the goggles and the layers of fur that surrounded her face, but Levy knew her well enough to discern the irritation in her voice. "It's better if I go, Drake. I can sense danger better than you can."

His brother frowned, but before he could say anything further, Johari cleared her throat. "I think I remember the way, now. With your senses, we should be able to find the Holocron." Without waiting for a reply, the Echani woman slipped her body into the fissure, her parka barely scraping along the edges. Moments later, Zara followed, then Drake. Levy stood and squinted at the horizon – it seemed like a tiny bit of light was starting to appear at the edges of the distant mountains, and the moons had all but faded away during the course of their journey.

"You coming, kid?" Tully's voice startled him, and he glanced towards the opening, where the elder clone's head was sticking out from the entrance.

Nodding automatically, Levy hurried to follow. At the sound of his footsteps, Tully sighed. "Well, since I didn't hear a yes, I'll take it by your movements that you're coming along."

His head disappeared, and Levy felt his cheeks burning, an odd sensation against the chill of the air. It was a bit difficult to squeeze into the fissure given the copious amount of clothing he wore – not to mention the instinctive feeling in the pit of his gut that did _not _relish the idea of crawling around an ice-cave beneath the surface of a frozen lake – but he managed. Within a few moments he'd caught up with the others, who had pushed their goggles away from their eyes and activated lamps affixed to their belts as they waited for him.

Just inside, there was a wide pocket large enough to accommodate the group, provided they walked in single file; once Levy joined the others, they began to head down a narrow, winding passage, the only one that seemed to be in this section of the cave. For several minutes Levy felt a stab of claustrophobia, as the walls on either side of him were close enough to touch with barely an extension of his hand, and the darkness seemed to swallow their meager lights.

_Get a grip soldier, _he told himself with gritted teeth. A moment later Levy exhaled and watched his own breath swirl away from him into the waiting air; he imagined his agitation dissipating with it as well, and he felt a bit better. Apparently being cut from the exact same cloth as one of the toughest fellows in the galaxy counted for something, after all.

Gradually, the passage opened further and he realized that, although they'd been walking for some time, the path they'd followed was paralleling the surface, and not descending too deeply into the bowels of the planet, which Levy supposed was a small mercy. It was also a tiny bit warmer here, and he figured that he had the lack of blowing wind and snow to thank for that. As they walked, he noticed that the light was increasing, as if the walls were glowing from within.

Zara commented on the fact, pausing to run her gloved hand along the ripples of ice that made up the walls. "Strange...it's light enough that I can almost see clearly, but it looks like there's only rock under all the layers of ice."

Before she replied, Johari swiveled her head around in an examination of the passage. When she spoke, her tone was curious as they rounded a corner. "Perhaps..."

The Echani trailed off as they stepped into a large room, the ceiling of which was low but the floor space was broad, stretching out for hundreds of meters before them and dotted with exits to other tunnels. It appeared as if the ceiling of the chamber was made of translucent ice, for it practically glowed with pastel blues, greens and purples, while the floor was a mixture of snow and crumbling rock.

Levy let out a low whistle as Zara stepped into the area, tilting her head up to get a better a whim, he fumbled through his pack and removed the little holo-cam that Weave had given him, trying to snap a few pictures of the space even as the others circled the room.

"Where's this light coming from?" Drake asked, pausing at the nearest wall, which was glowing blue behind his head.

In that moment, Zara, who was standing about a meter from him, sucked in her breath and stared around the chamber as if with new eyes. Before anyone could ask her what was wrong, she shook her head and stepped over to Drake, pulling off her glove and setting her hand against the wall. "Of course...the crystals...they're growing in the rock beneath the ice."

Drake frowned at the wall; Levy and Johari moved to inspect it as well, while Tully remained attentive on the perimeter. After a moment the former ARC cleared his throat. "Does this place look familiar, Jo? Is this where the Holocron is?"

"I'm not sure," the Ranger replied, glancing around the room for a moment before she winced and rubbed at her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Being here...I remember something about crystal caves, but this place doesn't _feel _right."

With this, Drake let out a sigh but didn't say anything. However, Zara looked thoughtful, after a moment she indicated one of the tunnel entrances along the sides of the room. "We can start searching if you think that will help..."

Suddenly, Johari let out a soft noise, her hand falling to cover her mouth as she stepped over to one of the passages that led from the room they were in. All eyes turned to her, but Tully was at her side in a moment. "Jo? What is it?"

"This way," the Ranger said in a soft voice, nodding to the tunnel. "I remember, now." With that, she pulled a small cord from within her belt and attached it to an outcropping along the wall, which Levy figured would provide guidance back should their passage grow too winding. Once the cord was secure, Johari slipped into the darkness.

Zara hurried after her, Drake on her heels. Tully sighed and glanced around the room, as if searching for Levy's location, one brow raised. "Guess we'll just bring up the rear again, eh kid?"

* * *

Drake gritted his teeth and kept pace as best he could, hardly taking the time to notice that the lights behind the walls seemed to be getting stronger. Despite the amount of clothing she wore, the Echani woman moved like a gust of wind herself, and Zara was right behind her, seemingly heedless of the fact that they were racing through an underground tunnel of ice and snow towards who-knows-what. Because he felt it was the wisest thing to do, Drake mostly he kept his awareness alternating between Zara ahead of him and Levy behind. Tully and Jo, he'd decided, could take care of themselves.

He knew that Zara may not like that the fact that he didn't have as much faith in the Force as she did, but he figured _someone _had to keep an eye on things. Otherwise-

The thought was cut off as he skidded to a halt, nearly colliding with the Padawan.

"'_Fek_, Zar...give me some warning next time..."

But before he could say anything further, she reached out with one hand to grasp his arm, pointing before her with the other, to where Johari was standing in front of what looked to be a frozen waterfall. As soon as he looked, Drake's mouth fell open as he stared, and he was unable to form even basic speech for a moment.

Curving stone brushed the top of his head, while the floor beneath his boots was rippled and faintly glowing from the crystals at the edge of the room. Sheets of ice extended vertically from some place well above the darkened ceiling of this particular chamber, which was not nearly as large as the previous one, but that only added to the beauty of the place by giving it a closer, more intimate feel. A veritable rainbow of lights illumined the ice before them, the colors ranging from rich violet to brilliant yellow, which, upon closer inspection, emanated from what looked to be thousands of crystals trapped beneath the ice, embedded within the rock below.

Zara approached the nearest section, her face awash in a blue that matched her skin, with notes of purple and emerald tinting the shadows of her form. "This is...I've never seen so many types of crystals in one place..." She turned to Drake, her eyes wide. "Isn't it incredible?"

In that moment, painted with ethereal light with an expression of wonder on her face, she seemed so unreal, like a dream he'd had once but could hardly remember. Words continued to fail him, so he only nodded. Levy had come to stand beside him, clicking away with his holo-cam, and letting out another low whistle of amazement at the sight. From the entrance, Drake could see Tully leaning against the wall, arms crossed before his broad chest.

"All I can tell is that it's crinking cold. Jo...any luck finding that Holocron?"

All eyes turned to the Echani woman, who was standing before another section of limestone, far off to one side of the room and well away from the icy swathes of color. Her brows were drawn as if she was in contemplation. Upon closer inspection, Drake could see that the smooth face of rock she was studying had been inscribed with various words and symbols, remnants of those who had visited this long-forgotten place, he supposed. "I don't know," Jo replied after a moment. "All of this is familiar, but not quite...right."

Zara had left his side and was pacing around the frozen waterfall, her hand lifted as if skimming the mottled ice, but not touching. There was reverence in her voice when she spoke. "This place is filled with power...I can feel it...it's like the ice itself is..." She frowned and he watched her cheeks darken. "Singing to me," she finished, glancing back at him.

No one laughed. Instead, Drake approached her and regarded a network of amethyst-colored crystals beneath the ice. "Maybe it's because of all these crystals. Or it could be the water," he added absently, running his gloved hand along the sheets of ice. "You know...in its frozen form. You've always been at your best around water."

Before she could speak, there was a sudden clinking sound, and everyone turned to see Levy pointing towards a far section of the limestone wall that Jo had been examining. Inexplicably jammed into a fissure in its surface were several long, crimson feathers, fanning out to form a rough, star pattern. Johari was beside him in a moment, running her hand over the closest feather before plucking it out of the wall, her eyes widening as she held it up to her face.

"Jo?" Tully had moved to her side almost instantaneously, and Drake tried again not to be unnerved by the silence of his steps, or the fact that he didn't even _seem_ blind sometimes, based on the certainty of his movements. The thought occurred to him that it was due to his ARC training, and he felt his respect for the former lieutenant increase even more. All clones had heard it said that ARCs were the best of the best, but Drake had never actually witnessed one in action during his time as a cadet.

But even beyond the skills that the ARC possessed, there was something else about him that tugged at the edges of Drake's mind, and as he watched Tully's attentiveness towards the Ranger, he realized what it was. The clone cared for Johari – not as a lover, that was plain to see – but there was still a strong connection between them. It was as if Tully had pledged himself to Johari, somehow, for some reason that the younger clone was unable to put his finger on.

The idea shook him, though he wasn't entirely sure why.

In the few days since he'd left Mundali, Drake felt like he'd just been stumbling around in the dark, groping for even a semblance of control. It was not a feeling that he enjoyed. In the GAR, on Kamino, especially, every aspect of his life had been regimented, and although he'd lived for five years without such restrictions, a part of him questioned if his genetically-engineered tendency to 'obey' was still at work. He wondered if Levy felt this way, too, and resolved to ask him at a later time. After all, no clone had to be a slave to his 'programming,' provided he could open his eyes and _think._

But he told himself that the war was over, and that all of those old doubts needed to be set aside so he could focus on the task ahead of him. With that thought, he took a breath and joined the others of his group as they stood before the limestone wall, examining the feathers.

Zara had already approached them and was studying the feathers with interest before she looked back at the Ranger, who was leaning into Tully, eyes closed with a look of pain on her face. "Are you okay? What is it?"

The older clone, in an unusual display of tenderness, hugged his arm around the slender, pale-eyed woman, a frown on his face, though he said nothing. Finally, Johari cleared her throat and held up the feather. "'The message is on the wind...'" she said in a soft voice. "I was wrong. The Great Holocron isn't _here_. It's not on Ilum at all..."

Levy and Drake exchanged dubious glances at her mysterious words, and Zara's tone mirrored their uncertainty. "Where can we find it?"

"I'm not sure," Jo confessed, leaning away from Tully. Having regained some of her composure, she held up the feather, twirling it in the rainbow light. "This is from Taloraan...from a creature belonging to the Wind Raiders, the settlers who inhabit that world." She frowned and ran her fingertips along the feather's edges.

"I remember, now...clues. We left a series of clues to track the Great Holocron down, and I asked him to erase my memory, in case someone ever tried to find it through me." Her voice was still quiet, though her expression had evened into its customary smoothness.

Zara took a breath to speak, but Drake beat her to the punch. "Clues? You mean like 'X marks the spot' from those old, adventure holo-novels?" He frowned. "That's ridiculous..."

"Watch your tongue," Tully growled. "If Rand left these clues for Jo to find, then it was the best possible solution. I've seen that man do more good in an hour than most others in their entire lives, and he deserves your respect-" He was cut off by Jo's hand on his arm, and his scowl softened; abruptly he turned away and began to stalk out of the room. "I need some fresh air. Don't worry," he added. "I can find my own way."

"I didn't mean any disrespect," Drake said with a frown, watching Tully stalk off. "It's just strange, that's all."

The Echani woman exhaled. "I know, Drake. It's okay." She glanced after Tully, then around the cavern; Levy, however, looked at Zara.

"Lev says that he'll go with Tully, just in case," Zara replied. "He can let me know if something's wrong. Thanks, Levy," she added with a smile to the mute clone, who nodded to her and slipped out of the cavern, his steps eager.

Trying not to feel a pang of jealousy at their shared communication, Drake cleared his throat. "Taloraan? That's a hike. Do we even have enough fuel to make it?" He tried not to think of Risky, Keo and Finn, instead trusting that they would be fine without him, that they would reach safety and get Risky some care, that he _would _see them again, and that he wasn't a bad brother for letting them go off without him around to keep an eye on them...

"It's in the Mid-Rim," Jo said, glancing around the room. "We'll need to stop for fuel, and probably a few other supplies, if this journey is to continue." She took a breath and looked at Zara. "I'd like to look around for one more moment, if you don't mind?"

Zara nodded absently; her expression was distant, and Drake knew that she was in deep thought. "Sure," she replied, cutting her eyes to him. "I'd like to examine those crystals again as well."

They made their way back across the chamber, towards the rainbow of ice. Upon closer inspection, Drake could see that there were several spots where the ice floes were curved towards each other, creating pockets and smaller tunnels that led through the frozen sheets of water. For several minutes they walked between the multicolored columns before she sighed and paused, turning to face him.

"Drake, I'm not a Jedi yet, but I will be one day."

"I know," he replied, tilting his head and regarding her.

She sighed again, and seemed to deliberate something before she continued. "I need to find the Great Holocron...I can't explain why, exactly, other than I feel like the Force is guiding me in this direction. I can't ignore the feeling that this is something I must do before I can be Knighted."

He frowned and shook his head. "Doesn't Honi determine when you're ready for the Trials?"

"That's how it used to be, but nothing is like it was," she said, turning to study a section of ice that was bathed in a pale yellow, lit from within by glowing citrine-colored crystals. "If the Jedi are going to survive, we all have to find our own way, now. So I think...I think it's up to me to determine my own path. Does that make sense?"

She looked at him, the glow from the crystals reflecting in her eyes, and he was speechless for a moment, struck with how certain she seemed of her path, and for a moment he envied her surety. Bathed as she was in the rainbow light, she was also the most beautiful sight he'd ever laid eyes on, and he couldn't help but sweep his eyes over her face in an attempt to sear the image into his memory.

"Drake?"

Blinking, he realized belatedly that he'd been staring. With a swallow, Drake thought over her words, then straightened his spine. "I don't like any of this, you know," he began, watching her expression darken. "It sounds like a lot of nonsense to me, and it's beyond suspicious. We don't know if any of what the Ranger says is true, and I don't like that her memory seems to be 'returning' as we go along...it's too strange for words."

"We've encountered 'strange' before," she pointed out, raising her brow.

Drake blew out a breath and shook his head. "Not like this, Zar. Okay, it was pretty strange on Mundali when we first arrived, but that was different: we had our family with us. We weren't on our own, in the middle of nowhere."

Her mouth opened to speak but he pushed on. "I'm worried about my brothers. I'm worried that Risky was too injured, and that we shouldn't have let Keo and Finn go off with him and just hoped for the best. I can tell that Levy is unhappy and scared, and I've learned that I hate ice and snow more than anything."

Here he paused to put his hands her arms, or on the sleeves of the parka that covered her. "Zara, I want you to be a Jedi, too. I really do. But I also have a responsibility to my brothers, to _our_ family. Can you understand that?"

"Of course," she replied, her eyes wide. "Look, Drake, I know you can't use the Force, but I can, and I know that Johari and Tully are good people. And I know how important your brothers are to you...they're like my brothers, too, you know. But the Holocron..." she swallowed thickly and looked at the crystalline ice. "It's part of the future of the Jedi, and it's just too important to let pass by."

"More important than Risky? Than Keo and Finn, and Levy...?" He did not add _and me, _though he wanted to.

But she seemed to know, anyway, for her eyes closed once in a long blink, then she looked at him again. "Yes."

For a moment he thought he'd been struck, as it was difficult to get air to his lungs. When he found his voice it was choked, though if it was with sorrow or fury he couldn't have said. If it was fury, he knew it was all directed at himself, anyway, because – as his own feelings had revealed to him – things were no different than they had been five years ago. "I'm sorry to hear that, Zara. I really am."

She was silent, and he realized that there was nothing for him here any longer, so he turned on his heel and made his way for the exit, taking pains to keep his stride even and his pace measured to conceal the effort it was taking to walk away from her.

* * *

There was a kind of cold on Ilum that seeped through the thick layers of Tully's clothing and reached his marrow, as if it were trying to suck the very life from his bones. Even hurrying as he was, the former ARC Lieutenant felt a chill settle over him, one that he realized had little to do with the air temperature. Dimly, he was aware of footsteps behind him – one of the younger clones, he figured – but they only made him increase his pace, because suddenly he felt like it was too difficult to breathe within the ice-caves.

Images beat a torrent against his eyelids, and his steps quickened. Though he normally detested the act, Tully held out his hands before him and slightly outward to ensure that he would not slam against a wall of ice or stone. Soon his fingertips brushed the fissure, and he could smell the chilled air outside. It wasn't as easy to clamber out of the tunnel as it had been to get inside, but within moments he was in the open air, pulling down the hood of his parka and relishing the stiff wind against his cheeks. For a moment he stood, swaying in the wind and wondering if dawn was coming, and thinking if it was, then the sky would probably be ignited in saffron, gold and crimson – if he could see it.

After about a minute he began to walk to clear his head, though he gritted his teeth at the onslaught of memories that the _shabla _planet had somehow dredged from the depths of his brain even though he'd never set foot on its surface prior to this mission. Mostly they were images, as he'd only been blind for about six months, but there were other things, sounds and smells that he could call up with perfect clarity, and not for the first time, he regretted his genetically-enhanced memory.

"_What's your name, soldier?" The words were spoken through the whine of the LAAT/i as it lifted up and began to fly away after depositing the clone on Ryloth, with his new 'partner.'_

_Tully frowned at the slender, brown-haired Jedi Knight, wondering at the strip of emerald-colored cloth tied around his eyes. "Sir. My designation is Alpha Eighty Five. ARC Lieutenant. _Sir_." He couldn't keep the sarcastic edge out of the second 'sir,' but – admittedly – he really hadn't cared to try. _

_The Jedi Knight seemed not to notice, instead wrinkling his nose and shaking his head. "Alpha Eighty Five is quite a mouthful...do you have a nickname?" Before Tully could reply, the Miralukan man continued, his mouth quirking into a smile. "If you don't, I can come up with one, though I doubt it will be to your liking."_

"_Tully." The name he'd chosen for himself came out as a grunt, but the general's smile widened into one of genuine pleasure._

"_Glad to have you along, Tully. I suppose your superiors told you to call me 'General Rand,' didn't they?"_

_Of course, like a _di'kut_, Tully had nodded, then realized the stupidity of the action when dealing with a blind man, so he cleared his throat and answered in the affirmative. The Jedi nodded again, then gave a casual shrug of his shoulders. "I'd rather you didn't, if you don't mind. 'General Rand' sounds...odd. If you like, you can call me Atreus."_

_It was against everything he'd both expected and been taught, and for a moment Tully was speechless. As if sensing his hesitation, the other man had chuckled and slapped the ARC's armored shoulder. "Or...how about 'Rand?' I think that's a fair compromise."_

_Tully turned the sentence over in his mind. It was still pretty informal, but not unheard of. The stranger thing, upon real reflection, was the word 'compromise,' which he'd heard only a handful of times in his life, and never in this context. Reluctant to let his bewilderment be known, he straightened his spine. "It'll work, I suppose."_

_The next question surprised him even more, and he wondered if it was a sign of things to come. "Are you hungry, Tully?"_

_This, however, was one thing for which the ARC had a ready answer. "Always am...Rand."_

"Rand you crazy _di'kut_," he muttered to himself, the words getting lost in the wind and the faint patter of footsteps from behind. "Where the hell are you?"

With a sigh, Tully stepped forward, still partly lost to memory.

So it was too late that he heard the distinctive cracking sound of ice separating from itself, or felt the ungainly shift in his footing that should have alerted him to the fact that the ground below was not stable. Before Tully could do so much as shout, the ice beneath his feet split apart and he was engulfed in cold and silence.

* * *

_Cliffhanger! :P_

_So hopefully it's clear by now that this story will feature something of a treasure-hunt, which was my original idea when I began this venture. From here on out there will be a bit of planet-hopping, which was a lot of fun to write; hopefully it'll be fun to read as well. :)_

_There are also many instances of dreams/flashbacks/memories coming into play. If it's not easy to tell them apart from the main narrative, let me know and I'll try to make it clearer. For now, the dreams and such are in italics, save for a few long portions that are divided with that nifty horizontal line. _

_Ilum was an interesting place to visit; the aurora borealis (or "skyfire" :P) that our heroes see when they first approach was inspired by footage from the ISS that totally blew my mind, enough so that I knew I _had_ to incorporate it into a fic somehow. (_ www. youtube watch?v= QGx740Ldmto._) _

_Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think so far! :)_

___Also, Star Wars Celebration VI is this August! Woot! Myself and a few other authors around these parts are going, and we're toying with the idea of having a fanfic dot net gathering/meet up of a sort at the convention. Interested? PM me and we can discuss. :)_


	12. With A Purpose

Song: "The Signal," by Fair & Kind, from the album, _A Little Past Twilight._

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: With A Purpose**

_In a room filled with strangers,_

_We fancy ourselves invisible._

_But possibility breeds exhilaration;_

_Settles and suffocates,_

_They'll leave us alone,_

_When we leave alone,_

_Without having spoken._

For several moments as she stood within the crystal caves of Ilum, the Echani woman was lost to memory.

"_The message is on the wind?" Johari asked as she helped the Miralukan Jedi to his feet, then watched as Atreus brushed the backside of his parka to remove any traces of snow and ice that had clung to him during the moments of his vision. They hadn't made it back to the ship before he'd been assaulted by yet another vision, though they were able to continue the discussion they'd been having before the episode. "That's a saying of the Wind Raiders. I remember...the chieftain Tocho said it, didn't he?"_

"_It's rather poetic, isn't it?" As he answered, he reached forward to unfasten the toggles at the front of her jacket before slipping his hand inside. Jo let out a gasp, for his ungloved hand was icy, but the feeling only lasted a moment once he found what he was searching for. Slowly, his hand withdrew and he held the feathers up before her. _

"_I know that you wondered why I asked you to bring them when we left the Wind Raiders. These are the messengers, Johari," he said, his tone uncommonly serious. "They'll guide you if I cannot."_

_She swallowed, unable to speak for a moment as she watched him step to the nearby wall and affix all but one of the feathers into a fissure in the limestone. The last one was pure white; he turned back to her and reached forward again, twining the pointed end of the feather in the loose strands of her hair that hung about her face. A small part of her wondered at the fact that he'd selected the only white feather in the bunch despite his lack of vision, but the thought fled once he placed his hands on her cheeks and pressed their foreheads together. _

"_This is the message." His voice was a whisper that echoed within her heart as he kissed her lips, with a feather-touch. "I know you'll understand. I trust that you'll remember, later."_

The sound of footsteps against the rocks behind her made her eyes flutter open, and Jo turned to see Zara rushing to the exit, a look of terror on her face as she waved at the Echani. "It's Tully," she called out. "Levy says he's fallen in the ice!"

Without a word Johari was behind the Padawan, and the two of them raced through the icy corridors, the beauty of the crystal caverns forgotten in the wake of the new disaster. After a few moments they came across Drake, who'd been walking alone; at their approach he turned, got one look at Zara's fearful expression and bolted for the exit as well. Johari noticed that Drake didn't ask the Padawan what was wrong, but there weren't a wealth of issues that could take place. However, Zara managed to say Tully's name, and Jo didn't miss the way that Drake's expression relaxed just a little, which indicated that he was slightly relieved, though by his swift pace she could tell that he was by no means complacent.

After what felt like hours, they reached the fissure and squeezed through one by one, Jo in the lead. It took her a moment to scan the area until she saw them: Levy was on his stomach, hands extended out to Tully, whose torso was caught between broken chunks of ice. They'd gripped arms and the younger clone was attempting to pull out the elder, while Tully's feet were kicking feebly behind him.

Normally, Jo knew that a Human could survive the conditions brought about by the frigid water temperature for several minutes or more, especially if the person remained calm, did not struggle helplessly, and was able to keep their head above the water level. However, Ilum's temperatures were so brutal...

Ancestors above, Johari knew that she couldn't bear it if Tully, as close as a brother and essentially the last member of her family, was taken from her, too. Deep within her clothing, the little pouch of ashes thumped against her chest as she began to run.

As fast as she could, Johari sprinted towards them, flanked by Zara and Drake. Beyond their position, the sky was glowing from the sun that was starting to clamber up from the horizon, casting its light at the edges of the clouds above, alternately gilding and setting them afire.

At the crunching sound of their approach over the ice, Tully's head lifted and he tried to call out, though the words were distorted through chattering teeth and ripped away by the wind. "J...Jo...s...s...stay...b..b...ack. N...not...sa...safe!"

But Drake had already dropped to his stomach, skidding alongside his brother to grapple at Tully's right arm while Levy kept a firm hold on his left, both of them bracing their knees into the ice as best they could. "It's okay, _vod_," the younger clone said, his voice brisk and professional. "We've got you."

With her attempt to gauge the firmness of the ice, Johari kept her approach lighter, but she made her way to the clones as soon as she was able, sidling next to Levy and attempting to grab at Tully's arm as well. He was extraordinarily heavy, the water-logged clothes seeming to triple his already significant bulk, and the shock of the cold seemed to dull his movements, as the kicking of his legs had slowed even further. She could see that his lips were turning blue, and watched the frantic rise and fall of his chest as he hyperventilated, the body's instinctive reaction against the trauma of suddenly being immersed in frigid water.

"Tully...you need to calm down," she urged, fighting back her own panic and keeping her voice steady. "We can help you, but you must keep calm."

Drake twisted around behind them. "Zar...?"

The Padawan's hands were raised and her eyes had closed against the biting wind; Johari was torn between helping Tully and watching the blue-skinned girl accessing the Force. Gradually, Tully began to lift out from the water, enough to allow the others to drag him onto solid ice. He was shivering violently, his teeth were rattling against one another, and his skin was a sickly pall that was starting to match the blue tint of his lips.

Johari tore her eyes from him so that she could look at Zara. "I doubt he can walk...we must get him back to the ship."

Drake and Levy exchanged glances, then the younger clone looked at Jo. "We'll fetch it. Zar, can you make sure he's okay in the meantime?" Even as he said the words he didn't look at her, and the Padawan only nodded. The younger clones got to their feet and turned to race off, their steps crunching along the frozen ground, while Zara knelt beside Tully, placing her hands along his cheeks and neck.

"With the Force, I can stave hypothermia off for a little bit," she explained, her eyes squeezing shut in concentration. "But he'll need to get out of these wet clothes as soon as possible."

"Tully...hang on," Jo whispered, stroking his ice-cold cheek and watching the Nautolan work. "You're going to be fine." He was silent, but she could see that his breathing had steadied and the fiercest edge had been taken off of his shuddering. "Can I do something to help?"

Zara paused, then nodded, though her eyes were still closed. It was growing lighter by the moment, but the appearance of the sun in the cloud-streaked sky seemed to have little effect on the air temperature. "Talk to him. Keep him calm, but conscious."

Perhaps he'd heard the Padawan's words; perhaps he was lost to a memory or a dream, but in that moment, Tully made a noise, uttering a name that Johari had not heard him speak in half a year, since the day that the woman who'd been his wife and her sister, died at the hands of the Imperials.

"Mira..."

Johari watched Zara's brows knit in confusion, but she said nothing, so Johari began to speak. "Tully...I've always wondered if Miriam ever told you what made her leave Eshan? All I know is that one day she comm'd me, saying that she wanted to be a Ranger, and that she couldn't stay home any longer. It was so unlike her, you know, because usually I couldn't ever get her to be quiet about anything, especially once she became excited about it...but she never told me why she wanted to leave home."

It was unusual for her to speak so freely, but once the thoughts of her sister entered her mind, Jo found it difficult to stop the avalanche of speech tumbling from her mouth. "But it didn't matter so much, when all four of us were working together. Do you remember the first time we met? Mira and I had no idea what was wrong with Atreus, and she told me later that she thought you were an arrogant ass, but that she liked your smile."

"_As long as he doesn't open his mouth," Mira said, frowning at Tully's retreating, blue and white-armored form. "I guess I can work with him. At least he's nice to look at, with and without the helmet."_

_Johari glanced at the Miralukan man who was gathering up the rest of his and the clone's supplies, and watched the surety of his deft fingers as they moved over the straps of the packs without fumbling or pausing, despite his blindness. "I know what you mean."_

The memory made Jo smile, despite the fact that her face was suddenly streaked with cold and wet, as if icicles had appeared on her skin without cause or provocation. However, she had little time to dwell on the strange occurrence, as the familiar whine of the _Spiral Dance'_s engines sounded above their heads; looking up, Jo could make out that Drake was in the pilot's seat, while Levy was at the hatch, which was slowly opening downward.

"What is he doing?" She shouted to Zara, whose eyes had opened to look up at the ship. "He can't possibly land on the ice..."

The Nautolan shook her head, and glanced at Jo. "He's not...come on, we need to get Tully aboard."

So while the _Dance _hovered a meter or so above the ice and Drake managed to hold it steady despite the buffeting wind, Johari, Levy and Zara were able to drag Tully's prone form onto the ship, but it was not until the hatch had sealed closed behind her did the Echani woman realize they had succeeded. However, there was no time to even feel relief, as she began stripping off the layers of Tully's clothing, heedless of anything but getting him warm.

"Everybody in?" Drake shouted from the helm. Zara called out a reply even as she and Levy worked on maneuvering the former ARC out of his parka; moments later Jo felt the bulkhead tremor as the ship lifted through Ilum's atmosphere, but she had little concern at the moment for anything but Tully, who was still pale and blue and shivering.

His blindfold had come undone during the struggle, and his sightless eyes were open and upon her, and even though his body was wracked with shudders, he whispered his deceased wife's name once more, the sound echoing in Jo's mind again and again.

"Mira..."

* * *

Not for the first time, Zara found that she was thankful for all of the Healer's training she'd undergone in her time as Honi Tallis' apprentice. Within minutes, Johari, Levy and Zara had Tully stripped of his soaking clothes and wrapped in an assortment of blankets; using the Force and their combined strength, they'd managed to maneuver him to his cabin, where Zara was kneeling over him, concentrating. There had been a time when she was much younger when the idea of touching a naked man would have made her _lekku_ flush with embarrassment, but after five years working as a healer on Mundali, Zara simply viewed the action as a means to an end.

In the background she could hear the hum of ship's engines and the quiet but rapid breathing of the Echani woman who'd not left the Tully's side. Levy had hovered in the doorway for some time, but Drake had called him up to the helm, so it was just Zara and Jo in the room with the former ARC. The Padawan had pulled off her own gloves and the bulky parka to allow herself greater freedom of movement, and she placed her hands on his chest, slipping her fingers through the layers of woven blankets to touch his bare skin.

It was a simple matter to reach out with the Force and assess his condition; in the extremities of his limbs, his fingertips and toes, blood flow had slowed to a dangerous pace, while within his core the blood that pumped through his heart was only sluggish. All of this indicated that hypothermia had not yet set in, but she knew that if she didn't ensure a return of his lifeblood to his hands and feet soon, he might lose them.

Beside her, she could feel Jo's tension as surely as if it were her own, the emotions almost palpable in the recycled air of the ship. "He's going to be okay," Zara murmured. "I just need a minute."

The Echani woman uttered a phrase in a language that Zara didn't know, but she hardly heard, as she'd returned all of her focus to Tully. Reaching through the Force, she closed her eyes and cast her awareness within the chambered folds of his heart to draw the slow moving blood from his core, then impelling it out to the rest of his body in what she likened to a spiraling motion. The blood flowed to his chest, his stomach and sides, then moved to his shoulders and waist, then farther still to his thighs and biceps.

Beneath her hands, Tully groaned, the sound conveying that he was in pain, and she felt Jo stiffen beside her. Zara took a moment to turn some of her focus from the flow of blood to his limbs and help sooth the needling feeling that he must be experiencing due to the receding numbness. The groans ceased, though he still did not seem conscious, which she supposed was a good thing; a quick droplet of the Force directed at his brain alerted her to the fact that there was no damage to that area, so she returned to all of her attention to the healing.

Several minutes later, Tully's blood was steadily flowing through his hands and feet, so she gave a sigh of relief and opened her eyes. Glancing beside her, she could see Jo's silver eyes darting between them, her expression uncommonly nervous, so Zara gave her a reassuring smile. "He's out of danger. However, his body went in to shock on Ilum, and it needs a bit of time to recover. He'll be fine, especially after a good sleep."

Nodding, Johari smoothed the blankets over Tully's chest, then glanced at Zara again. "Thank you." There was a beat of silence between them, then Jo spoke again, her eyes were on Tully. "He's the only family I have left. I can't lose him."

"He's...special to you?" Zara tried not to speculate, but she couldn't help but frown over the idea, as she had not gotten the impression that they were lovers.

The Ranger shot her a slightly raised brow. "Not...like _that_. No, he is my brother." Her voice softened and grew tighter, as if it was folding in on itself. "Tully was married to my sister, Miriam, who was killed about six months ago during a raid from the Inquisitors."

"The Jedi hunters?" Zara asked, a chill passing over her at the name.

Jo nodded, her expression darkening. "They ambushed us...Tully was struck on his head, which is how he lost his vision, and Mira..." She clenched her jaw and blinked rapidly, so Zara put a hand on her arm.

"It's okay. I understand." There was a moment of silence while Zara studied Tully, then she looked back at Johari. "On what part of his head was he struck?"

"The back. We found a healer who told us that his occipital lobe, the part of the brain that controls vision, was damaged."

Zara nodded, though she felt a bit disheartened by the news. Five years ago, Honi had been able to use the Force to remove the implants on Levy's arm, though she never could give him his voice back. From what she knew about brain injuries, Zara felt that the odds were against Tully ever getting his vision back.

Some wounds were to deep even for the Force to heal.

Since they were in Tully's cabin, away from the helm, Zara couldn't make out the voices of Drake and Levy, so she cast her thoughts to her friend. _Tully's going to be fine after some rest. What's going on with you guys?_

Levy's reply was swift. _We're trying to contact Finn and Keo, to see if we can't get a status on Risky. The ship's low on fuel, so we're just orbiting one of Ilum's moons until we know where we're going. _

Nodding, Zara glanced at Johari and indicated the direction of the helm. "We should let him rest while we plan our next move." The Echani woman nodded and they both rose to make their way to the door.

* * *

Levy frowned at the comm, and wondered how upset Johari would be if he punched a hole through the obstinate device.

Seeming to match his frustration, Drake scowled into the viewport as the error noise sounded again. "Still no answer? That's not good."

_No, it's not, _Levy replied with his hand-signals, after which he scrubbed his face with his hand as if that would stave off the headache that was threatening. Seeing Drake's expression of irritation, he lifted his hands again. _I've tried everything I can think of to boost the power and triple checked that the encryption is correct...but I still can't contact them. _He frowned. _It's like they're gone._

"Don't say that," Drake replied, glancing at him. "What is it that Weave always says about 'speculation before you have all the facts?'"

The mention of his elder brother made Levy feel a pang of sorrow in his heart – homesickness, he figured – though he only nodded and returned his attention to the comm system. Moments later, Zara and Jo appeared at the helm.

Glancing at the console, the Ranger frowned. "We're almost out of fuel; we don't have near enough to reach Taloraan at this rate. I suggest we make for Codia to resupply." Levy noted that the worry seemed to have fled her voice, though he could still read tension in the set of her shoulders.

"We need to contact our brothers," Drake countered, shaking his head. "I have to know if they're okay..." He looked at Zara, who returned his gaze with a look of sorrow.

"Levy's tried," she said at last. "Drake...I don't know if we can do any more."

"So you just want to abandon them and keep going on this quest of yours?"

She bit her lip and took a deep breath before replying. "And if we did contact them, what then? Would you want to leave? Go back home?"

Drake cast a look at Levy. "Maybe. Probably. What about you, Lev?"

Levy missed Weave and Honi, missed the warm sun on his back and the buzzing of humidity in his ears, missed the laughter of Kalinda and Stonewall's kids. But he thought of the little holo-cam, and of the kaleidoscope of Ilum's colors, and he wondered what else was out there to be seen. So he took a deep breath and lifted his hands. _I think we should keep looking. _Drake's expression darkened and Levy tried not to grimace.

However, Zara spoke again. "Drake...the others must have found Altis' people, who weren't even that far from Zygerria, and you know as well as I do that his ships always have tons of encrypted transponders and comm blocks. Maybe they're fine, but don't want to risk _our_ safety."

No one missed Drake's look of disapproval, but the clone only sighed and turned back to the helm. "Okay, Codia, coming right up. Then where?"

Jo and Zara exchanged looks, and when they spoke it was in unison. "Taloraan."

* * *

Truth be told, Corliss was pleased to have a chance to cease piloting for a time and focus on other, more important matters.

The _Starwing_ – while comfortable – was slow and ungainly, and required far too much of her attention to fly, and the two-day long trip from Zygerria to Genassa had sorely tested her patience. When she reached the forested world in the Mid-Rim, she actually breathed a sigh of relief upon being hailed by one of the commandos aboard the vessel that Antinnis had sent, a _Theta_ class shuttle. Not nearly soon enough she had deposited the _Starwing_ with a pair of troopers who were to return the craft to Prakith, and she was safely ensconced aboard the _Theta-_class_, _thinking only of a long, hot shower and about sixteen hours of sleep.

"Make for Metellos at once," she told the pilot at the helm, a white-armored stormtrooper, who answered her in the affirmative.

As she turned to exit the cockpit, a dark-robed figure emerged from the airlock, effectively blocking her path. "Acolyte Auset. I trust your journey was uneventful?"

She made no attempt to hide her scowl as she looked into the red visor of the Imperial Shadow Guard. "Get out of my way, Priam."

The molded hood of his helmet tilted as if he was regarding her. "I see that Tremayne has not indoctrinated your kind with proper treatment of superiors."

Though she'd been in the process of trying to slip past him, she paused at his words. "'_Your kind_?' What's that supposed to mean? And are you suggesting that you're _my_ superior?"

"It was not a suggestion," he replied in his customary even voice, though she thought she detected a trace of sarcasm.

Heat rose to her cheeks and she felt anger swelling within her. After two days of hyperspace travel, ship's rations, sponge baths and no sleep, dealing with the Shadow Guard was the very last thing that she wanted.

However, rather than spout off the thoughts running through her mind she simply lifted her hand and sent a mild Force-push his way, one just strong enough to cause him to lose his balance and stumble backward, allowing her to pass by unhindered. It was a point of pride for her; while precious little was known about the Shadow Guards' Force-sensitivity, it was commonly understood that they were not nearly as strong with the Force as the Inquisitors, especially one such as herself.

So as she stepped through the airlock she shot him a overly-wide smile and injected honey in her voice, enough so that it was clearly mocking. "Be careful, Priam...I wouldn't want you to trip and hurt yourself."

Another thought struck her, and before she activated the door she paused and looked at the Shadow Guard again, who had righted himself and was regarding her with what she imagined was his version of hostility, even though she couldn't see his face or read his emotions. "Also, you'll need the help of a _strong_ Force-sensitive to make the jump to Ilum. Inform me once we are in the Metellos system, and I shall assist you."

She turned to go, then, but was startled to feel a gloved hand grab her forearm as he turned her body to face him. Though she was beside the bulkhead, he did not pin her against it, instead he only gripped her wrist and leveled the red, glowing visor at her face. "As you wish, acolyte."

The words were spoken without emotion but his fingers clenched around the bones of her wrist tight enough to make her suck in a breath. For one moment he held her in place, as if to prove that he could, then he released her. In an attempt to place some distance between them, Croliss turned and hurried in the direction of the cabins aboard the shuttle.

Most of the _Theta-_class transports were not made to accommodate passengers on long-range trips, but this particular one, being in service to the Inquisitorius, was outfitted with two small cabins, each with its own 'fresher, at the back end of the common area. A brush with the Force told her of the one that the Shadow Guard had used, so she selected the second one for herself.

A hot shower pushed her annoyance with Priam from her mind, after which she settled on the small bunk and pulled out Zara's bracelet from her pack. For several minutes she set it on the blanket before her, studying the bit of braided leather and thinking back to the time _before._

Before the fall of the Republic and the rise of a far more effective power; before the night of Order 66, the night that her world had been turned upside-down.

Before she truly understood what it was to be _strong._

So for a little bit, Corliss Auset allowed her mind wander to the past.

* * *

In its heyday, the Jedi Order had eschewed personal possessions – another of their many faults – but when she was a youngling of about nine years, Corliss had gotten a hold of an earring. Dropped on the streets of Coruscant by a wealthy woman who owned many such trinkets – so her psychometric powers told her – it was small, gold, embedded with gems, and it sparkled like her own personal sun in the light that filtered into her room.

Although even at the time she felt it was silly, Corliss had liked to just look at the piece of jewelry, often holding it up against her own dusky pink skin and admiring the contrast of metal and soft flesh. Sometimes the light would catch the gems just so, and she'd see reflections of ruby, sapphire and diamond patterns against her arm and in the trailing edges of her hair. After a particularly difficult day of training with Master Feróz or trying _not _to be late for another lesson – and failing – she would think of the earring, tucked safely in its place beneath her pillow, and smile.

It was – at the time – the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. And it was _hers._

One day she'd been running late, and had been forced to take the earring with her to her morning sparring session with Master Yoda; the entire time that she was supposed to be focusing on her movements and emptying her mind, she was worried about the earring, shoved within the inside pocket of her tunic. _Please don't fall out_, she remembered thinking, hoping that it would just stay put.

Quite possibly sensing her distraction, Yoda had called her to the front of the class to demonstrate a particularly difficult technique.

Naturally, by the time the class had ended, the earring was gone.

It was such a little bauble, such a small, inconsequential thing, overall. Corliss knew that _now, _if she asked, Antinnis could – and would, she thought – give her any number of trinkets, for the Empire was vastly wealthy and generous to its faithful servants.

At the time, however, the loss had devastated her nine year-old self. She'd searched frantically through the empty classroom once the class had disbanded, but it was no use. After some time she'd given up and slid down along the side wall of the room, knees bent with her elbows folded across them, head down. Corliss knew that her emotions were roiling off of her in waves, something that Master Feróz had tried to coach her on controlling, but at that moment she didn't care as a tear slid down her cheek and hit the curve of her bent elbow.

As she she felt more tears follow in the first's wake, she supposed this was the reason that the Council didn't like for Jedi to have possessions: it hurt too much to lose the things you love.

Soft footfalls alerted her to another's presence so she looked up, swiping her pale tunic across her eyes and trying not to appear as miserable as she seemed. A blue-skinned girl had entered the room, her emotions indicating that she was uncertain and somewhat despondent as well. She was younger than Corliss, though it was difficult to determine the Nautolan girl's exact age, and once she caught sight of the Zeltron Padawan, she froze in place, her dark eyes widening in surprise.

"I...I'm sorry to bother you...but do you know where Sparring Room Besh is?"

The loss of the earring was momentarily forgotten in the wake of the newcomer and her confusion, so Corliss swiped at her eyes again and nodded. "It's at the other end of the corridor," she said. "By the portrait of Nomi Sunrider."

_Lekku _swaying as she nodded, the young girl bit her lip and looked from the doorway to Corliss. "Are you okay?" Her voice was soft.

"I'm fine," Corliss replied, straightening. "Just resting."

"Oh. Okay." Still the Nautolan girl didn't move and Corliss found herself growing a bit irritated. Finally the blue-skinned youngling took a deep breath and looked at her. "It's just...you don't seem fine." Her _lekku _shifted again as she said the words.

Curiosity mingled with irritation, and Corliss extended her legs and pressed her palms to the floor, keeping her gaze on the other girl. When she spoke, the words came out sharper than she'd meant. "Did the Force tell you that?"

Something changed within the younger Padawan. Rather than look abashed or angry – as Corliss herself would have reacted to the rude statement – her eyes widened and excitement slipped off of her as she took a seat besides Corliss, knees folded in an approximation of a meditative stance. "Nope," she said with a shake of her head. "I can...smell it."

Corliss frowned over the words and lifted her tunic to take a hesitant sniff, just in case she'd grabbed a dirty one by mistake that morning, but the other girl let out a giggle and covered her mouth with her hand. "No, no..._you_ smell fine. It's just that Nautolans can kind of...smell feelings. It's one of the ways that my people talk to each other."

"With _smells_?" The idea was completely foreign to the Zeltron, but she felt her irritation flee as her curiosity increased, so she crossed her legs in an imitation of the younger girl and leaned forward to listen.

The Nautolan nodded, seeming pleased with Corliss' interest. She lifted one of her thick _lekku_ as she spoke. "I'm not all Nautolan, but I guess I'm enough for it to work. We can smell the feelings of others with our _lekku_; Master Fisto says it's like how Humans sense things called 'fero-moans.'" Her mouth quirked over the word and she shook her head. "I just did a report on it for one of my classes."

"It's like that with Zeltrons," Corliss replied. "Only we can't smell them...we just-" She paused, trying to remember the word that Master Feróz had used to describe the action. "Exude," she said at last. "We exude the pheromones, and they can affect other people if we're not careful."

It was one of his biggest concerns for her, the constant outpouring of emotion that she had a difficult time containing even when she was calm and happy; when she was angry, he'd warned her that the feelings were contagious. Thinking of this made her face fall, and she hugged her knees to her chest. "Master Feróz said that most Zeltrons don't make good Jedi because of it, but that I was chosen because of my psychometry."

The other girl seemed thoughtful, then smiled at her. "I don't know. I don't feel how you feel. I could tell how you _felt_, but I don't feel sad like you do." Her tone was earnest, which made Corliss' mouth quirk into a smile.

"I am sad, I guess."

"Why?"

Taking a deep breath, Corliss explained about the earring, feeling silly all the while, as the whole scenario sounded pathetic once she actually described it out loud. However, the Nautolan girl listened to every word and made no indication as such. When she finished, Corliss let out a deep sigh. "I know it's stupid, and that we're not supposed to have _things,_ but it was pretty and I liked to look at it. I don't think that's so wrong, do you?"

"Maybe it's gone for a reason," the other girl said after a moment. "Maybe you were only supposed to have it for a little while, then it was someone else's turn."

A flare of jealousy erupted from Corliss at the thought, but after a moment she shrugged. "Maybe. I'll miss it though." She thought of the shimmer of reflected ruby-light along her skin and sighed. "It was really pretty."

The other girl sat up, her dark eyes wide once more. "I found these flowers growing in a corner of the Room of a Thousand Fountains...they're not made of gold or anything, but they come in all kinds of colors. They're really pretty, too." Her enthusiasm was palpable, and Corliss thought that some of it was perhaps rubbing off on her, for she felt the corners of her mouth lift into a smile.

"That sounds nice. Will you show me?" The other girl agreed, and soon they were heading out of the room and making their way down the smooth corridors, heads ducked as they chatted. Once they reached a turbolift, Corliss remembered her manners and gave the other girl a rueful smile. "By the way, I'm Corliss Auset. What's your name?"

The blue-skinned girl grinned and stuck out her hand, which Corliss took, noting that her grip was surprisingly strong for one so young. "I'm Zara Karell. Nice to meet you."

* * *

When the memory faded, and Corliss' eyes blinked a few times as she drew herself out of her reverie, turned her eyes back to the bracelet, and smiled to herself. After a moment longer she sighed and gave a slight shake of her head, scooping the bracelet in her pack and sending a brush of Force against the cabin light, encasing her in darkness.

* * *

_Lots of memories in this one..._

_This story was a bit tricky at times, because as we progress forward with the plot, we also move backward through Johari's memory of her time with Atreus. _

_Next week: Who wants to go flying? :D_

___[shameless plug] I encourage you to check out my new story,_ The Fighting Kind___, which features Captain Rex and a brand-new OC.  
_

___Whoa...check out the nifty new review/comment feature below. Pretty snazzy, huh? You should give it a try... ;)_


	13. Mercurial World

Song: "Take A Picture," by Filter, from the album, _Title Of Record. _(I know, it's an oldie by now. Scary thought, eh? :P)

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Mercurial World**

_Can you take a picture?_

_'Cause I won't remember._

It was difficult to navigate the _Spiral Dance_ through Taloraan's scattered ring system, but not impossible.

Certainly nothing that Drake couldn't handle.

The seven moons of the giant, gaseous world were held at intermittent intervals just beyond the layer of particulates that had gotten caught in the planet's highly-charged magnetic field. The end result was a labyrinthine system of rocky satellites in a myriad of shapes and sizes.

In the viewport, Taloraan glowed. Its appearance was akin to a focused beam of light held behind a sheet of flimsi. Roiling gas-clouds in the upper atmosphere lent an ephemeral feel to the planet, as if any moment a strong gust of solar wind would blow it away. Indeed, as they approached the coordinates that Johari had managed to dredge up from her memory – some place in the southern hemisphere – Drake imagined that he could feel the wind start to buffet the hull.

It had only taken a day or so to reach Codia, refuel, and then make the journey to Taloraan, and in the interim everyone had taken turns sleeping and piloting. Without taking his eyes off of the milky, citrine-colored planet, Drake spoke to the Echani woman at the nav. "How're the shields doing?"

"Stable and holding," she replied in an even voice, adding: "The _Dance _has never let me down."

It was wiser, he knew, to withhold the sarcastic remark that came to his mind, so Drake only shrugged and adjusted their course. "Glad to hear it."

The airlock that led to the gunwell was open, as was the one beyond, that opened onto the lounge, and he could hear Tully, Zara and Levy – well, the first two of them, anyway – discussing something he was not privy to, and again he wondered at the bond that the Nautolan girl had formed with his brother. Even as he felt a flash of jealousy, it was swiftly followed by a note of shame. Levy deserved to have someone with whom he could communicate normally – or as normally possible – and Zara...well, it had been his own decision to leave her behind on Mundali while he traveled the galaxy with his brothers, so he supposed that he had no one else to blame for her and Levy's closeness.

Drake knew that Levy didn't harbor romantic feelings for Zara, and he knew that she looked upon Levy as a friend – a brother, perhaps. But still...it bothered him that they had such a close connection, almost as much as it bothered him that he was jealous where he should only be happy that they had each other when himself and the others weren't around.

_Kriffing_ _hell_. The whole thing was too irritating for words, and he frowned inwardly at the tangle of emotions that couldn't be shot away, no matter how much he might wish it were otherwise. As if to add to the confusion, Zara's face, wreathed in crystalline light, looked back at him from his mind's eye, and his throat caught.

_Let it go,_ he told himself. It was what she wanted, it was what they both needed, and he was determined to carry out her wishes, despite his own feelings that he was having trouble ignoring.

Shaking himself out of the reverie, he swallowed and blinked at Taloraan, which was growing larger as they approached. "You're certain the coordinates you...remembered are correct?"

Perhaps he didn't do so great a job keeping the skepticism out of his voice, for the Echani woman cast him an unreadable look before she replied. "I know you don't believe me, or even like me," she said. "I know that you're worried for your brothers. I know what it's like to miss your family..."

She frowned and trailed off, and they sat in silence for a few more moments. Finally she turned his way again, and he returned the look, noting how her pale eyes held his without a trace of hesitation or irritation. "The circumstances of this entire journey are strange to all of us, I suppose. But I do appreciate the fact that you've chosen to remain."

It was a testament to his training that Drake was able to keep his face deadpan, as he didn't think that he had much of a choice, overall. Not like he'd get very far without a ship, anyway.

Johari's hand lifted to indicate the helm. "Ancestors know I'm not the best pilot, and Tully..." She trailed off again as the other clone's voice – as if on cue – rose from the lounge area in a creative string of swearing. "Tully appreciates you and your brother, in his own way."

"If he's going to appreciate anyone, it should be Zara," Drake replied with a shrug, turning back to the helm. "Without her, he might be missing a few limbs to frostbite."

Light laughter sounded from her direction, and he cast the Antarian Ranger a curious look; surprisingly, she was smiling, albeit it was not at him. Again, they sat in silence, but it felt looser this time, and they watched Taloraan approach without speaking further. As Drake guided the _Spiral Dance _through the thick atmosphere, slowing its pace because they were nearing their destination, the others came to the helm to watch.

Or, in Tully's case, comment. "Gas giants are...interesting. Jo, I heard you say that the atmo's breathable? That's good...it'll let us save the oxygen filters for another time."

Zara had come to stand behind Drake; she was close enough that he could feel the brush of her breath as she spoke. "What in the stars is _that_? It looks like an island or something, but...is it floating?"

From the clouds, a funnel-shaped bit of mass had appeared; as their ship drew closer, Drake could see that it _was_ an island of sorts, though it was like nothing he'd ever seen. It wasn't large, perhaps only a kilometer or so wide, with a mixture of dull, yellow grasses and rocks along its surface. The bottom appeared to be riddled with holes and cavities. As the _Spiral Dance _approached, more of the strange, floating islands began to appear, and Drake shook his head in wonder.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Levy's hands moving rapidly. Johari seemed to notice too, as she watched him carefully before replying. "The islands are a phenomenon only found in a few areas of the planet, where the magnetic fields are strongest. They stay afloat in part due to the fields, but also because of their porous nature, so that they are seemingly suspended on an ocean of gases."

"How'd you know that?" Drake couldn't help but ask.

"The Rangers have a rather comprehensive databank," she replied in an even voice. "At one time, it was our business to know such things."

The former ARC frowned. "So it's not returning memories...?" To illustrate, Tully tapped the side of his head, and she sighed.

"Not this time."

The nearest "island" was now off the starboard side of the ship, and Drake tilted his head to get a better look. "Can any of that Ranger know-how tell if there's a place to land? We're about near the coordinates that yo-" He was cut off from further speech by a blur of orange and red that shot past the viewport as the ship slowly descended through the atmosphere.

"Is that a...bird?" Zara asked, alarmed. Even as she said the words there was another shot of crimson past them, then another, and another. Each time the flashes approached, the _Dance _rocked a little bit, as if the wind from their passage was causing instability, and Drake caught glimpses of what appeared to be some kind of humanoids atop the creatures. Gritting his teeth, he punched the engines and the ship lurched forward, putting some distance between them and the strange natives.

"What the kriff was _that_?" Though he couldn't see, Drake knew that Tully's hearing was better than most clones, and the rocking of the ship had also given away the almost-attack.

Johari frowned and put a hand to her head for a moment; she ran the fingers of her left hand through the edges of her hair. "Fleft-wauft," she murmured.

"Fluff-wha?" Tully asked with frown.

"Big, crinking birds," Drake replied through clenched teeth as a horde of the Force-damned things suddenly descended around the _Spiral Dance; _he could see now that they were indeed large avians of some kind, with wicked looking claws and sharp beaks that glinted in the dim light.

"Hang on..." He veered the ship to the left and ignored the shouts of the others as they were tossed around the cabin, and as he did so he visually scanned the area around them, searching for a way to maybe lose the creatures; however, moments later they felt the ship shudder and come to a halt, a horrendous, metallic grinding sound coming from above.

"Oh, _that's_ a good noise to hear inside a starship," Tully grumbled, his hand reaching for his blaster. "What'd they do...grab us? Do we look like dinner to you?" This last part was shouted towards the ceiling, as if his words could penetrate the bulkhead and reach the creatures.

Drake punched the controls but nothing worked; the engines had become overheated with too much attempted acceleration and not enough forward movement, and were offline. He resisted the urge to swear and instead peered out the viewport. "Looks like they're taking us to that big island over there." He shot a glance at Zara, whose skin had paled. "Guess we need to arm ourselves."

* * *

When Drake looked at her, Zara tried not to feel disheartened by his unreadable expression, and instead focus on the very real danger into which they'd flown. Everyone armed themselves and gathered at the hatch: the clones seemed calm but prepared, and she supposed they were drawing on their military training in the moment; Johari grasped her twin blades, the steel winking in the light of the cabin while her feet were slightly apart and her face set with cool determination. Zara herself had a blaster in her hand, while her saber was clipped to her belt, within easy reach.

The ship slowed, grinding to a halt against the grassy surface of the floating island. Everyone tensed as Tully slammed the heel of his hand into the panel by the hatch door, muttering something about "meeting his fate head-on," and the hydraulics hissed as the door opened, slowly letting down the boarding ramp. Outside, Zara could make out massive shadows and hear the shifting of feathers in the wind. She cast her awareness out through the Force and searched.

Only to find curiosity, recognition, and..._joy_?

Tully's legs tensed to propel him forward even as his finger closed on the trigger of his blaster, but Zara spoke first. "No! Wait..."

All faces turned to her, but she was already lowering her weapon and making to step past Tully, though she did glance at the Antarian Ranger. "It's safe. I promise."

Johari murmured something in her lilting language, but slid her blades into their sheaths and moved alongside Zara, her expression calm, though the Nautolan could feel an undercurrent of agitation within the other woman.

As Zara took a step to the ramp, Drake caught her arm but she shook him away. "Trust me," she said, willing him to do so. His brows knitted but he let go, took the place on her other side, and together they descended the ramp, Tully and Levy at their heels.

Initially, all she felt was rapidly-moving air against her skin, as if the wind itself was attempting to tear her apart; there were a few moments where she had to adjust her stance in order to remain unmoved by the gusting air, and the realization that their ship had been brought to a precarious patch of floating landmass did little to soothe her nerves.

It was brighter than she expected; there was no discernible sun in the sky above, but the light color of the clouds was almost blinding after being within the darkened interior of the _Spiral Dance_ for so long. Zara blinked a few times while her eyes adjusted, noting the sharp, almost bitter tang to the air. Despite the constant blast of wind, it was still not as cold as Ilum, though she figured that it would get uncomfortable soon enough, and blinked again as the rushing air attempted to tear water from her eyes.

Then she saw the natives.

They were Humanoid in appearance; a group of wiry-looking men and women dressed in an assortment of leather and some type of wool, clothing clearly designed for warmth. Bright feathers, mostly in colors of crimson and flame, decorated their shoulders, waists and arms, mimicking the appearance of the fleft-waufts, the massive bird-like creatures that Johari had mentioned; presently, the natives were surrounding the _Dance_, looking on the scene with tilted heads and rapidly blinking eyes in the manner of their smaller kindred.

Even without hearing his thoughts, Zara could sense Levy's internal dilemma as he debated jumping back into the ship or pulling out his holo-cam. Beside her, Drake's hands tightened over his blaster, but he said nothing.

"We're surrounded, aren't we?" Tully sounded resigned more than anything else. "Fan-_kriffing_-tastic." Standing just before him, Johari was silent, eyes wide.

In fact, save for the rushing air in Zara's ears, the whole place was silent, but even the wind couldn't banish the tension. Again, Zara brushed out with the Force and noted the recognition that emanated from the Taloraan people, and she realized that it was centered on the Echani woman at her side. Finally, one of the women, a female who appeared to be in her late forties, stepped forward and nodded to Johari.

"Tocho said you would return, though it is sooner than he expected." Though the wind raced between the groups as if eager to carry her words away, they managed to reach Zara and the others.

Jo furrowed her brow. "Tocho? Is that...?"

"Our chieftain," the Taloraan replied. "The leader of our clan of Wind Raiders and the keeper of the message. Your lover entrusted him with it, when last you were here. Come...we'll take you to our home." She made a gesture with her hand, but Johari only stared at her.

When the Ranger finally spoke, her voice was choked, and it didn't take the Force to realize that she was flummoxed. "My...my _lover_?"

The Taloraan sighed and shot her a somewhat impatient look. "You and your friend should come with us, Ranger...all will be explained to you in time."

At these words, Drake twisted around to look at their ship, then turned back to the natives. "Can we fly ourselves, or do you want to carry us again?" Tully gave a snort of laughter at the sarcasm, but Drake's expression was stern.

However, the Wind Raider merely chuckled, as did the rest of her kindred. "Your ship is too large for our village to accommodate," she said. "But it will be safe from harm, here. The winds in this section of our world are mild, and the islands are more stable than they likely appear. No...you can ride alongside us."

"No way am I getting on a big, _kriffing_ bird," Tully said, all traces of laughter in his tone having faded. "Not in a thousand years. You'll have to kill me first."

"I'm with Tully on this one," Drake added, shaking his head as he looked over the nearest fleft-wauft, whose saffron-colored head drooped a bit as if it had understood the words.

Another Wind Raider, a younger man, rolled his eyes and glanced at the woman who'd spoken to them initially. "Niabi...are you certain about this? Maybe we should just bring back the Ranger. The rest can stay here."

Niabi shook her head; the others had moved back to their fleft-waufts and were preparing to take off, readjusting girths and leather straps that held the saddles to their mounts. Her fleft-wauft, a crimson-colored creature with large, yellow eyes, that Zara thought held a spark of sentience, approached Johari with the ungainly, tilting steps of a winged creature on solid ground before pausing to peer down at the Echani woman.

"They are free to do as they like, but I think they'll chose to come with us. Pinion remembers you," Niabi added, extending a hand to Jo, who swallowed and looked up at the massive bird. It blinked at her once, then lowered its head to her; tentatively, Jo's hand lifted and the creature all but shoved its head beneath her palm, its eyes closing with pleasure as she began to scratch.

"What's that sound?" Tully's voice wavered between uncertainty and fear.

The fleft-wauft, Pinion, had started to make a soft cooing noise that seemed incongruous with its ferocious appearance, and Jo smiled. "It's okay, Tully," she said, then looked at Zara. Her face was alight, her cheeks were flushed and she was actually smiling. "It's okay. We can go with them." She looked back at the bird and gave a soft shake of her head, amazement tinting her next words. "I remember you."

* * *

As he gripped the leather handles of the makeshift saddle on which he found himself, Levy considered the very real fact that flying in a starship was absolutely _nothing_ like riding on the back of an enormous bird as it plummeted through the air.

For one thing, it was kriffing cold. Not like Ilum had been, but enough to make him wish for his parka. For another...there was nothing between him, the air, and the plummet to certain death that he surmised would last for far too long. In that moment, as if to prove his point, the fleft-wauft on which he was riding adjusted its angle and veered to the right, the movement causing Levy's stomach to drop to his knees. He caught a glimpse of _below: _a misty, orangey-yellow that went on and on...

As he'd done before, Levy told himself to snap out of it, hoping that he could will the motion-sickness away. Maybe if he didn't look _down_, things would seem better.

Nope. It was the same above his head as well, though the sky was a little lighter, but overall he was starting to lose all sense of direction, and his body was rebelling against the disorienting feeling. Even though his left arm was itching like crazy, his cheeks had long since become numb after so much wind, but he hardly cared about that any more. They'd only been flying for a few minutes, but he was done with the whole ordeal.

And then he glanced at Zara; she too was mounted behind one of the Wind Raiders, though she appeared to be enjoying herself, despite the fact that the rushing air must surely have been astringent on her _lekku. _Her dark eyes were wide and she was glancing all around, taking in the sights – well, whatever there was to be seen – and intermittently speaking to the Raider before her, a young woman who looked amused at the Padawan's questions.

Levy couldn't help it. _Only you would like this kind of thing, Zar._

Her reply was like laughter within his mind. _Haven't you always wanted to fly?_

_That's what ships are for. _The fleft-wauft he was riding dipped its head and their speed increased, along with his heart rate. _I'm not made for _this_ kind of flying._

_Just relax, Lev, _she replied, her tone more serious but still infused with her customary kindness._ It's going to be okay. Trust me._

Force above, he wanted to believe she was right, but then the kriffing bird wheeled again, and he sorely wished that he could scream, or at least shout obscenities as Tully was doing. Closing his eyes didn't help either, and Levy was starting to panic.

However, he recalled Mundali and his talk with Weave. It was true; he has survived worse than this, hadn't he? As if in protest, the nanogene droids beneath his skin seemed to crawl, but he pushed the feeling away and tried to think of other things.

The Wind Raiders, while not particularly warm and cuddly, didn't seem like they were hostile to the newcomers. He could see Drake ahead of him, gripping the saddle with white knuckles but keeping his gaze up; beyond his brother, the Echani woman's eyes were closed, and there was a faint smile on her face as if she was savoring the feel of the wind.

Save Tully, no one else appeared to be overly bothered, so Levy decided to try and take his mind off of his own fear. He took a deep breath and leaned forward to the Wind Raider, the annoyed young man who'd addressed Niabi. After tapping his shoulder to get his attention, Levy pointed to the bird they were riding, hoping that the Raider would understand. It took a moment, but the Taloraan gave a nod. "This is my girl, Luster," he said through the wind. "And I'm Kek."

Levy nodded and gave him a broad smile, hoping to convey his thanks. He thought that Kek understood, for the other man smiled back and nodded once more before turning forward again.

The sky wheeled above and there was no sign of any ground below; Levy slowly unclenched the fingers of his left hand from the saddle's grip and carefully reached down to pat the fleft-wauft, whose feathers were surprisingly silky. At first he wondered if the creature felt the motion, though almost immediately Luster turned her head and regarded Levy for a fraction of an inch before looking forward; her body tensed and tightened, then she was angled into a nose dive that sent Levy's stomach to his ears. However, rather than vomit he started grinning.

In the back of his mind Levy wondered how difficult it would be to pull out his holo-cam and capture the moment as they flew.

* * *

Common sense told Tully that it was not wise to place one's trust – or one's life – on the back of a massive, alien bird and simply _hope_ that the crinking thing didn't decide to give a hearty shake and send him plummeting to the gaseous void below. Tactically, his group was at every disadvantage, especially once they left the relative safety of the _Spiral Dance_:they were outnumbered, on unfamiliar turf – well, _that _seemed to be the wrong word, given the circumstances, but he supposed it sufficed – and following the "feelings" of a fledgling Jedi.

None of that brought any kind of comfort to the former ARC lieutenant.

However, that _other _sense, the one that Rand had often called _gut feeling_, was not screaming a warning, and he wondered if he'd been hanging around Jedi for too long.

So rather than give into his apprehension, Tully instead puzzled over the new intel he'd gleaned from the Wind Raiders, namely that Rand and Johari had been lovers, at some point during their quest to hide the Great Holocron.

It wasn't much of a surprise, really. He'd known that they harbored feelings for each other, but neither of them had ever seemed inclined to do anything about it. However, the realization that they had _finally_ taken that step pleased him. They were the best family he could have ever asked for after his first squad had been killed, and he found that he was glad that Jo and Rand had known that kind of happiness, even if it was for a short time.

Moments into his rumination, he felt the wind around his face slow and the fleft-wauft's body tilted upwards in a manner that indicated it was landing. None-too-soon, either, because he'd actually run out of swears and curses, earlier.

Indeed, the bird hand settled against something solid, and Tully stretched his senses to discern what he could about their new location. Aside from the mouth-watering aroma of cooking food, he could smell the grassy, sharp scent that he'd noticed when they'd been forced to land on the island, so he figured they were on another one that was probably larger, as it stood to reason that the Taloraans had brought the off-worlders to their proper home.

Once he heard Johari's voice telling him it was safe, he slid off the bird and landed on solid ground, confirming his earlier assessment and alerting him to the fact that he'd missed having dirt beneath his boots, as opposed to, well...nothing.

"Are you...?" At his side, Jo's question was soft.

"Never better. Well," he amended as his stomach let out a growl. "I could use some dinner."

His sister made no response as she turned to walk and he followed; soon the others joined them, and he found that he was strangely comforted to know that he was with other clones again – even half-trained as they were. He could hear the sounds of other Wind Raiders chattering all around them, and smell a pungent mixture of campfire smoke, cooking meat and what he assumed was...

"Guano, I suppose," Jo said in response to a question from the Padawan. "I imagine they use it for all manner of things."

Drake's voice sounded next, wry. "Not for _eating_, I hope."

Following the smell of smoke, the group was lead to a point about two hundred meters from the landing site. After a few minutes they were asked to sit down before a snapping heat that he could tell was a campfire; a collection of thick blankets had been spread on the ground, and within moments Tully felt someone passing him a heavy plate that smelled amazing. Niabi, the Raider who'd made hard contact with Jo, said something about welcoming guests and that the chieftain, Tocho, would see them soon, but most of his attention had shifted from sussing out potential threats to dinner.

Guano or not, the Wind Raiders seemed to know their way around a...well, he didn't really have any idea of what he was eating, other than the fact that it was tender and delicious, so he nudged Jo.

"What do you think this is?" He modulated the pitch of his voice to only reach her place beside him, their knees and hips touching as they sat.

Though he'd never admit it to anyone else, Tully took comfort in her movements, as they gave him clues as to what was going on around him. Not that he didn't miss being able to _see_, but there was no use crying over spilled blue-milk, as the saying went.

Moments later, he felt the movement of her coat as the Echani woman shrugged. "I have a few ideas, but other than it _not_ being guano, I'm not sure I care to speculate too much, Tully."

"Copy that." On his other side, he could hear one of the other clones – Levy, he thought – scarfing down his own meal, and chuckled to himself. Some things were a constant, no matter what batch a clone was a part of, anyway.

For a few moments the group sat in relative quiet and ate. Jo and Zara attempted to ask questions of Niabi, but the Raider kept deferring the answers onto the chieftain, who had still not made an appearance. Once his belly was full, Tully leaned forward, tracing small patterns he could only see in his mind's eye in the blanket before him. It was almost strange, he realized, to be so comfortable. The fire was pleasantly warm and the only person he considered family any longer was safe at his side. Even the younger set wasn't being too annoying as they spoke to one another.

He knew the chieftain appeared when silence fell over the group and Johari straightened in her seat. Several of the Wind Raiders spoke to each other in a rapid language that even he couldn't follow, but he detected no hints of malice in the tone of their words. There was a shuffling sound, then a sigh and creak of bones as Tocho settled down; Tully knew that he was across the fire from them because Jo didn't turn her head at all, so he faced forward as well.

When the elder man spoke, his voice was surprisingly clear and resonant, though the words he said made little sense. "Where Swift hearts fought Brothers in the Core of the Arrow; the Invisible Hand did tear bone from the marrow."

Silence.

Tully winced. Great, just their luck. The Wind Raider chieftain was kriffing insane.

As if she'd had the same thought, Johari cleared her throat. "I beg your pardon, sir?"

There was a pause, then the chieftain spoke again, formulating the next series of words to be slower and more deliberate. "The sky was ripped open and our world was lost; the price was an hour, too high was the cost."

"Um..." By her tone the Padawan seemed flummoxed as well, so Tully figured that the Force wasn't magically translating the words or anything. "Sir? What does that-"

"Our souls are now trapped on the coruscate field; we wait for the time when the darkness will yield." Satisfaction tinted the elderly Raider's voice, and he didn't speak again for some time. Tully could feel the others shifting around him, as if they were exchanging startled looks, though he was puzzling over the words.

When the chieftain spoke again, the lilt of his voice was gone, replaced with a hearty boom that jolted the others out of their confusion. "Time has returned you to us, at last, Ranger Senna. Though," his tone softened. "I see by your companions that the Jedi's words were true enough, and that he has fallen."

The movement of her hair as it brushed against his shoulder alerted Tully to the fact that Jo was shaking her head. "I don't know, sir. I haven't spoken to Atreus in...some time. I'm not exactly sure where he is." She paused again. "You know my name?"

There was a smile in his next words. "I do not easily forget the one who helped saved the life of my grandson, Kek," he said. "It is a debt that can never be repaid."

"How...how did I do such a thing?" Jo asked in a tremulous voice.

Another rustle of fabric, as if the old man had shrugged. "His wound festered; our healers had gone to look for the herbs to cure him, but you and your lover – the Jedi – were able to cleanse his injury." A soft murmur rose from the audience and for a moment all Tully could hear were their voices. Finally Tocho called for quiet, then spoke to Jo once more. "Your companions are...different."

"This is my brother, Tully," Jo replied, her hand patting his forearm. "The other young men there are Drake and Levy, and that's Zara." Aside from Levy, the others spoke a greeting in unison, and Jo paused a moment before continuing. "If I may ask...the poem that you recited?"

Tocho chuckled, the sound blending in with the hiss and snap of the fire. "You do not recognize it? A shame, but your Jedi told us that would likely be the case. We were honored that it was entrusted to us."

"It was very pretty," Tully said in a dry voice. "But what does it, you know, _mean_?"

There was silence and Tully got the feeling that the chieftain was studying him, which was confirmed when Tocho spoke again. "You wear a similar mask as Atreus Rand, but are neither Miralukan nor Jedi, young man."

"What gave it away?"

"Your lack of patience," Tocho chuckled. As Tully muttered in Mando'a under his breath, the chieftain continued speaking. "To answer your question...I don't know. We were not given the answer, only the question for safekeeping. I suppose that is for you to determine."

* * *

Some time later, Johari found herself alone. Dusk was falling, evidenced by the darkening sky and the dropping temperature, though there were no stars visible through the thick layer of atmosphere above her head. The group had disbanded: Tully had gone to the yurt-like structures of the Raiders to relieve himself in their version of a 'fresher; Levy had wandered off with his holo-cam in tow, joining one of the Wind Raiders as they looked over the fleft-waufts; Drake and Zara remained seated by the fire, close but not speaking.

So Johari sat at the edge of the floating island, knees bent and hands folded in her lap, gazing with unseeing eyes towards the void below her boots. For a few minutes she tried to puzzle over the riddle, but eventually her mind turned to other matters. Absently, her fingertips smoothed through her hair, as if she could still feel the feather that Atreus had once woven within the pale strands.

_My lover? We were lovers? _Her throat grew tight, and she lowered her hand back to her lap.

She remembered caring for him...more than that, if she was honest. Through the long years of the Wars they had grown close, though there had always been a distance between them, as if they were perpetually orbiting one another. Many times she'd imagined taking their wavering friendship to another, deeper level, but she had always dismissed the idea as being too fanciful. Because he was a Jedi, she knew that some things were off-limits to the Miralukan man, and she'd needed – she'd _wanted – _to respect that.

Of course, when Miriam and Tully had begun their relationship, things had grown even more awkward. Perhaps, she'd mused at the time, she needed to be more forthright and less withdrawn. Perhaps she'd only needed to _tell_ him how she felt...

But they had worked it out eventually, she supposed, though at the moment she didn't know if that was a comfort or not.

Soft footsteps sounded behind her, then she heard Tully's voice. "Jo? Niabi said you were over here, but I'm not keen on the idea of stumbling around. Places like these aren't great for a blind guy."

There was a bitter edge to his voice that had come up with greater frequency since Mira died, so Johari twisted around and extended her hand. "I'm here, Tully. About six paces forward and to your left."

She watched his progression as he followed the sound of her voice; his steps were measured and deliberate, and he had a frown of concentration on his face. Finally he reached her and she touched his wrist lightly, guiding him to a sitting position at her side. Like her, he was silent.

They faced the darkening air for some time until he started to chuckle.

She shot him a look that she knew he wouldn't be able to read, but couldn't help the automatic action. "What's so funny?"

The clone grinned at her, waggling his brows above the strip of fabric around his eyes. "You and Rand..._finally_." Jo made a noise of irritation and the chuckling intensified into a guffaw. "I knew you had it in you...or should that be, 'I knew _he _had it in y-'"

"_Tully_!"

He snorted with laughter. "Too far?"

Johari couldn't resist pinching the exposed skin of his arm, causing him to let out a yelp of pain. "Too far. _Di'kut._"

Rubbing at his arm, he managed to give her a rather boyish look, his mouth curving into a pouting expression and his brows raised. "It hurts even more when you swear in Mando'a, you know." His palm lifted to press over his heart and when he spoke his voice was mocking. "I'm wounded, Jo. Deeply, irreversibly wounded."

"You're intolerable," she teased back, though she couldn't help but smile at his wry tone. They sat in companionable silence for a time before she spoke again. "I wish I could remember...more of him." At Tully's snickering she sighed and clarified. "Well, yes, I wish I could remember _that_, but...there's more. There must be _more_." Her hand lifted to her head and she squeezed her eyes shut, searching through her memories. "But all I can find is...nothing."

The former ARC cleared his throat and patted her back, his voice serious once more. "It'll be okay, Jo. We'll figure it out."

Nodding, Jo hugged her arms to her chest and stared at the darkness beyond. "I hope so." There was quiet some more, then he started chuckling again. She sighed and looked his way. "What is it, now?"

"Took you two long enough. You were dancing around each other for years. Not like..." His words trailed off and his smile faded.

"No," Johari said, putting a hand on his forearm and giving it a squeeze. "Not like you and Mira." That affair had started as if by a lightning strike, and had rapidly grown into a raging fire that she'd watched consume her sister and the ARC. Naturally, _those_ memories were clear enough.

He shook his head, his voice suddenly gruff and quiet. "She was your sister...I should be comforting _you_."

"But she was _your_ wife," Jo replied, her sister's face – so like her own – coming to her mind's eye. Something their mother had said to them once caught in her mind: _my girls are as different as the sun from the moons...I suspect your lives will follow vastly different paths. _

Mira, her sister. It was no surprise at all that Tully had fallen for the young woman, whose personality was bright as any sun. Johari wished, as she did almost every moment, that she'd never allowed Miriam to come with her, that she'd insisted her little sister stay home and remain safe, far away from her own destiny.

Tully shook his head again, his frown deepening. "Family is everything," he said after a moment. "You and I both know that." They were quiet for some time, then he gave a dramatic sigh. "So I guess we really are stuck with each other, huh?"

Johari's reply was soft, but firm. "Through thick and thin, _vod_."

* * *

_Happy sigh: that last scene is one of my absolute favorites in the entire story, maybe of anything I've ever written. :D_

_Also, this fic contains the first and only poem (rhyming, no less) that I've written since college. It's...interesting. ;) Next chapter will show our heroes puzzling out the clue and figuring out where to go from here. _

_Taloraan offered several challenges, not the least of which being how the heck are there any kind of native fauna on a planet with no landmass? Even birds need to rest once in a while. Wookieepedia says that there are giant jelly-fish creatures called island-beasts floating in the atmosphere, which the Wind Raiders live on, (or inside?), but quite frankly that sounded kinda gross. So I went another route. _

_While I'm aware that there are also floating islands in the movie _Avatar_, I tried to make these a bit different, as well as offer some kind of scientific explanation as to their existence. My awesome husband – a nerd like me but in a vastly different way – helped me figure out the magnetic-field thing, and for that I'm eternally grateful._

_The Wind Raiders also appear in a Clone Wars comic, which I did read, but again, I chose another interpretation for the purpose of this story. There's got to be more than _one _clan living on Taloraan, right? :P_

_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think so far..._


	14. Distractions

Song: "Distractions," by Zero 7, from the album, _Simple Things._

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Distractions**

_I love you, I love you, I love you, I do._

_I only make jokes to distract myself from the truth._

The sky was growing darker, but Zara hardly noticed as she gazed at the flickering fire and said the words aloud one more time. "Where Swift hearts fought Brothers in the Core of the Arrow; the Invisible Hand did tear bone from the marrow."

Beside her, Drake picked up the next phrase. "The sky was ripped open and our world was lost; the price was an hour, too high was the cost."

Exchanging a wry look, they said the last part in tandem."Our souls are now trapped on the coruscate field; we wait for the time when the darkness will yield."

A huff of irritation escaped the clone, and he glared at the fire. "But what does it _mean_? 'Swift hearts?' 'Brothers' of whom? And what's the 'Core of the Arrow?' Who uses arrows, anymore?"

"'The Core of the Arrow,'" Zara repeated, sounding the words out. She shook her head. "I don't know, Drake."

"I mean, it's obviously the next place we're supposed to go, if that Jedi left it as a 'clue' or something," the clone continued. "But other than that it's gibberish to me."

Silence overtook them, save for the snapping fire and the distant speech of the Raiders; several meters away, she could see Levy with a group of Taloraans and their fleft-waufts, grinning as one of them used the holo-came to take a stillshot of him reaching up to pat one of the giant birds. Tully and Jo had wandered off some time ago, so it was just the two of them.

She looked down at her folded knees and bit her lip before glancing over at him again. "I'm sorry, Drake." At his expression of confusion she elaborated. "For what I said on Ilum, about you and the others not being as important as the Holocron. It's just...I want so badly to be a Jedi. It's what I've always wanted."

"I know," he replied, looking away from her and back into the fire. "I remember what you said to me, on Mundali all those years ago."

So did she. All-too-well.

"_I really like you, Drake. I mean, I really, really do. But being a Jedi...well...it's what I want, more than anything. And it's so important now that I focus on that, especially since there aren't many Jedi left – that we know of – and besides..." Here she trailed off and swallowed. As if sensing her agitation he glanced at her. Zara took another breath and forced herself to meet his gaze. "I don't think I'm strong enough for...that."_

_But he sat up straighter and met her gaze, so that she could feel his own resolve rising to match hers. "You're wrong, Zara. You're making the wrong choice." He frowned, more to himself than her, then shook his head. "I mean...I know that being a Jedi is important, but what's here, what's between us...isn't that just as important?" _

"_It can't be. Drake, I'm so sorry." Her voice was a whisper._

_He didn't say anything for a long time, only stared out at the jungle. Finally he looked at her. "Me too, Zar."_

_Zara shook her head. "I don't know about anyone else's experience, Drake. I only know about mine. And I don't think..." She paused and bit her lip, trying to look somewhere, anywhere, but in his eyes, though he held her gaze without flinching. "I just can't let myself get attached to you in that way. Can we go back to being friends?"_

"_Friends." He said the word slowly, as if tasting it, and his eyes closed for a second. Then they opened and he regarded her. "Is that really what you want?" She nodded and he exhaled in a long, slow draw. "Okay, Zar. Friends it is." _

The memory of her fourteen year-old self made Zara wince. "I was a kid, Drake. We were both kids." Not like now. The thought made her shiver, even though the fire was warm. It reminded her of him, of his arms around her in an embrace, warming her against the chill of her own emotions. _No_, she thought again. _Not at all like now_.

He shook his head. "It's fine, Zar. It was a long time ago." He gave her a smile that did not reach his eyes, and again she reached for him through the Force. Just as it had been before, she felt no emotion, just the steady, unyielding presence of his life energy. It should have been enough. She wanted it to be enough.

But it wasn't.

Zara couldn't help her next words. "Why can't I ever read you? Through the Force, I mean."

A faint smile at her irritated tone flashed over his face before he shrugged and schooled his expression to one of calm. A moment later his jaw tensed, and he seemed reluctant to speak, though eventually he gave a sigh of resignation. "I asked Stonewall to show me how to shield my emotions. So you wouldn't know..." He trailed off and stared at the fire, his fists clenching at his sides. "So you wouldn't _know_, Zar."

"Oh." There was heat behind her eyes and within her fingertips, and none of it was from the fire. "Drake..."

But he was shaking his head. "Please don't give me the 'let's be friends' talk again, okay? Once was enough to last me a lifetime."

Within her chest her heart – her single, lonely heart – began to beat faster despite his harsh tone, or perhaps because of it. "That's not what I was going to say."

"Then what?" Almost-golden eyes lifted to hers at last, unblinking. "What is it, Zara?" There was no hope in his voice, though he shifted a bit closer to her as if he couldn't help himself.

"I...I miss you," she replied at last, leaning closer to him. "Drake...I've missed you. I've never stopped missing you, or thinking about you. Every day...I'd wonder what you were doing, if you were hungry or laughing or sleeping." She stopped the flow of words abruptly and gave a thick swallow. "I don't think I was wrong before, when I said it was better for us to just be friends, because it was better for my training. It _was_ the right thing to do, back then."

Statue-still, he hardly seemed to be breathing; the only indication of it was a warm brush of air on her cheek when he spoke. "What about now?"

Dimly, she realized that she was trembling, that they were only a breath apart. "Now..."

It didn't matter which one of them closed the gap. The moment her mouth touched his, Zara's doubts dissipated into the air to be carried off by the omnipresent wind. At first there was a slight shifting of lips as their bodies sought to recall how to kiss one another, but before any real awkwardness could register, her arm was sliding around his torso and he was reaching up to cup her cheek.

While they basked in the glow of the fire and each other, something unfurled within her, and it was then that she realized that the curtain of his mind had been drawn back to reveal a deep, abiding sentiment. Zara had a name for it, but was afraid to say out loud, because it was echoed within her own heart.

_Love._

Nothing else in her life was as real as that moment, as that feeling, and she felt herself pulled to him as though she were a tide and he a luminous moon. Love, of course. It was real, it was tangible, it was _right, _and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she just kept kissing him.

The spell was broken by a series of loud whoops and jeers, and they broke apart, flushing as the Wind Raiders started to applaud all around them. While she and Drake had been occupied, they'd surrounded the young lovers and were tossing an array of shouts and playful mockery their way. Within the crowd she caught a glimpse of Levy, who was rolling his eyes as if to say _took you long enough; _she didn't intrude on his thoughts, but he smiled at her and – in his playful manner – gave them each a thumbs-up.

Drake cleared his throat and shot her a sardonic look, though his grin was wide. "Guess the tauntaun's out of the cave."

* * *

As Drake watched Zara's face flush a lovely shade of indigo as she laughed at his joke, his heart swelled to the point where he wondered if the cavity of his chest could contain it. He wanted to kiss her again – wanted to do many more things, actually – but there was something about being surrounded by jeering Wind Raiders that killed the majority of the romantic spirit. It didn't matter, though, because she was beaming at him, and he knew that he had a big, stupid smile on his own face.

"What's all the racket?" Tully's voice broke through the chortles of the locals; looking up, Drake noted that the blind clone and the Echani woman were approaching them.

Zara straightened and cleared her throat. "We're...trying to figure out that riddle."

"I don't know what's gotten the Taloraans so rowdy," Drake added in as nonchalant a voice as he could manage, given the recent bout of emotion and arousal that had swept through his person. Jo raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing as Levy broke free from the others and made his way to the fire; however, before taking a seat he seemed to hesitate at the edge of the firelight, considering something, until Zara waved him over.

When everyone was together once more, the Padawan repeated the riddle and there was silence for a moment while everyone thought it over. Finally, Zara looked at Jo. "And you're sure that you don't remember...?"

Her tone was gentle, but the Echani woman seemed troubled anyway, as her eyes dropped once to the ground, then looked up again. "I'm positive. But..." Her expression turned thoughtful. "It must be a place..."

Suddenly Tully sat up, his face alight. "General Grievous." The other looked at him before Johari asked him to clarify, and the former ARC shook his head. "_The Invisible Hand_...that was the name of the head-clanker's ship during the Wars."

"It was," Drake added, sitting upright as well, his mind whirling. "I remember learning that when I was a cadet, and seeing the reports of its attacks."

"So...it's a place that Grievous attacked during the war?" Zara asked, her forehead creasing. "If that's what 'tearing bone from the marrow' means, anyway. That sounds violent."

Johari nodded slowly. "It's still a rather broad clue, though."

Levy lifted his hands, but it was not to speak; he'd pulled out a datapad from the rucksack he'd worn and began thumbing through it eagerly. After a few moments he looked up, eyes shining, and began gesturing at the 'pad, though he was looking at Zara. She tilted her head and watched him, then a wide smile spread across her face as well. "Lev says that he's got a list of planets that Grievous' ship attacked during the wars...and that he thinks the first part of the riddle is a section of the galaxy."

"'In the Core of the Arrow...'does that mean the 'Arrowhead,' I wonder?" Drake mused, the time spent staring at starcharts while he was learning to pilot coming back to him. It was part of the Kaminoan training program, learning everything there was to learn about navigation, including colloquial names of prominent galactic locations. "That's in the Core..."

"'Swift hearts...'Brothers...'" Johari said, sounding out the words. "I wonder if that's referring to the Brotherhood of the Sith?"

"Not clone brothers?" Zara asked with a frown. "That's a bit more recent. The Brotherhood of the Sith only lasted a few years...almost four millennia ago, during the Great Sith War."

At this, Levy dropped the 'pad in his lap and began signing again. _The Republic Swift Fleet...I remember from our military history lessons. They fought the Brotherhood of the Sith at Oderon during that time._

There was a pause while everyone looked at each other, then Drake's eyes got wide. "'The price was an hour, too high was the cost.' Levy, are any of those planets that Grievous attacked in the Core? And, is there something about an 'hour' that...I don't know," he added with a frown. "Can you do a cross-sectioned search or something?"

"But what can happen to a planet in just an hour that's so bad?" Zara asked, turning to Drake with wide eyes as Levy began furiously entering information onto the datapad.

Before Drake could answer her, Tully spoke next, his voice dark. "Orbital bombardment." He gave a deep sigh, his shoulders sinking and his head tilting down. "Of _course_. I should have remembered..."

Touching his arm, Johari spoke. "Should have remembered what?"

The elder clone sighed again, and ran a hand over his face before toying with the trailing edges of the cloth around his eyes. "Humbarine."

Johari sucked in her breath and Drake felt the hairs on his arms stand up, though he wasn't sure why. Even Levy paused and lowered the datapad, frowning with confusion. Zara, however, looked from one person to another, her _lekku _trembling with agitation as her gaze settled on Johari at last. "What happened on Humbarine?"

"The holo-digest version is that the Republic pulled out and left the place to the Seppies," Tully replied, his words bitter. "The real story is that the planet's local defense force was absorbed into the Republic military, leaving Humbarine itself vulnerable to Separatists attacks. Eventually, the CIS started attacking – over and over, throughout the war – and the planet was unable to defend itself, so they requested aid from the Republic. From what I understand, while the Senate debated the specifics – some dispute over a trade route through that sector – the Seps kept attacking the place, and the entire system."

Drake frowned. "Wait...they didn't try to fight back?"

Tully's voice was a growl. "They were too busy trying to evacuate the place. It was a city-planet, like Coruscant. The Republic Senate let that miserable clanker Grievous destroy Humbarine. He leveled round after round of ordo on the place until..." The clone made a hissing noise and lifted his hand, sending it down against his knee with a slap. "There was nothing left."

Johari spoke next. "You were there, weren't you? You and Atreus...I think I remember him telling me about it once..."

The elder clone nodded, his frown deepening. "Yeah. We had a mission before the worst of it, to see if there was any chance of a victory. I remember how pissed off Rand was when the Senate ignored the Jedi Council's recommendation to keep the fleet there, and just pulled out of the place."

There was silence for a few minutes while they considered. Drake glanced around them, noting the cheerful bonfires that had been lit around the area and the joviality of the Wind Raiders, who had gone back to their own affairs to leave the group of strangers in peace – possibly at the behest of the chieftain. Above his head, through the thick atmosphere, he couldn't make out any stars or even any of the copious moons that surrounded the gas giant, and he tried not to think of the blank sky as being ominous. The wind picked up, snaking through their clothing.

Beside him, Zara was still trembling, and he considered reaching his arm around her, then decided not to push his luck. Instead, he only looked at her, offering up a thin, tentative smile. "So...I guess we're going to Humbarine?"

"The rest of the clue," she said, glancing at Johari, who appeared to be deep in concentration. "'Our souls are now barren on the coruscate field...'"

The Echani woman shook her head; the dye she'd placed in her hair had started to fade in the last few days, revealing streaks of pure white. "I suppose it refers to a place on the surface. Beyond that..." She gave a sad smile. "Perhaps I'll recognize it when I see it."

"It's not much to go on," Drake pointed out. "But I guess it's all we've got. I suppose we should spend the night here and leave in the morning." He tried not to think about Risky, Keo and Finn, and again hoped that they were okay, because he knew that he was well and truly locked into the search, now more than ever. Even so, guilt streaked through him, and he let out a sigh.

Silence filled the air again as they all glanced around them, and he figured that everyone would regret leaving the peacefulness this place. Zara leaned into him and this time he absently put an arm around her shoulders, still considering the mystery of Humbarine. Suddenly, she shifted and rested her head on his shoulder while heaving a sigh; in that moment, Drake felt an overwhelming sense of _belonging_, and something within him seemed to relax._ This is real_, he thought, rubbing at her shoulder. _This is right_. _It has always been right._

Perhaps, he mused, inhaling her watery, sweet scent, this _was_ where he belonged, after all.

At this, Levy caught his eye and gave him a look that seemed to say – again –_ finally_. Drake didn't miss how the Ranger's eyes slid to him and Zar, though she said nothing and her face did not change.

Heedless of all of this, Tully let out a deep sigh. "And we're off."

* * *

_Meanwhile, back on Ilum..._

Although ultrachrome armor had many virtues, keeping its wearer warm – particularly against the harsh winds of Ilum – was not among them. However, Corliss refused to shiver as she paced across the snow, making her way towards a broken patch of ice near the edge of a frozen lake; in the distance, she could see the sky darkening with an approaching storm, so she knew that she had little time before the faint footprints she'd detected were obscured completely. As it was, tracking Zara to this particular part of Ilum had taken more time than Corliss would have liked, but her psychometric talents were not something she could shape to her whim. Still, the entire situation had her irked, to say the least.

It was with no small amount of annoyance that she noted Priam at her side, his own steps light against the ice. "Aren't you supposed to stay with the troopers?"

The crimson slash of his visor did not turn to regard her, instead remaining fixed ahead, as if on the mountainous horizon. Silent. Of course his training prevented her from reading his emotions, so rather than wonder over his reaction to her words she gave a huff of irritation and began to trot past the Shadow Guard, reaching out with the Force to ascertain if the terrain was stable. Most of it appeared to be, but she could sense a series of hairline fractures criss-crossing through the area, some of which had been formed when the person – she could see booted footprints in the snow – fell through.

Pausing at the broken bit of ice, Corliss studied the area for a moment before kneeling down, cold forgotten as she slipped her left hand out of her glove and ran her fingertips along the frozen chunks, her eyes closing in concentration. The impressions were faint after the days that had passed, but the residual emotions that she could sense had been strong when experienced by their owners, so she was able to get a clear enough reading.

Whoever had fallen here hadn't had time to shout. A clone...an older clone than the ones she'd noted on Zygerria. Others followed to help. Other Fett clones...they were the younger ones. Her brow furrowed. She could almost see someone else, someone with pale eyes, but it was not the _someone_ she was looking for. Then the older clone was pulled out of the ice, but he was in shock. So...

Within her mind there was a flash of blue skin, and an echo of a voice that she'd know anywhere. _Zara Karell. _

Corliss smiled. The Force brought her the eddies of present, past and future, the energies that surrounded her former friend, and she sat back on her heels, blinking as if coming out of a trance.

A gas giant. Kelavine system.

_Taloraan._

Priam had paused a few paces behind her, and was standing statue-still, hands at his sides. When he noted that she had started to get to her feet, he spoke. "You found something?"

He'd allowed a note of curiosity in his voice, which surprised her, given the Shadow Guards' reputations for obfuscation. However, as she brushed off the frost from her knees and replaced her glove, she debated not answering him, as it wasn't really any of his business, being simply the hired muscle on _her_ mission, but decided that she was in a good mood and feeling generous. "Yes."

Maybe not _that_ generous.

However, Priam did not react as she'd expected. Rather than remain silent or offer some veiled threat in response to her deliberate quiescence, he spoke again and took several measured steps towards her. "What have you discovered?"

"They're making for the Expansion Region," she replied, watching but trying not to see the fluidity of his movements beneath his armor, or the fact that he seemed to not even feel the wind that was growing stronger by the moment, so much so that she thought it might soon push her to her knees again. "For Taloraan."

"There's nothing there but provincials and rabid tribesmen," he replied, pausing about a meter from where she stood. "What would send a Padawan and errant clones to Taloraan?"

It was a fair question. What was Zara up to? What had happened to her since they last saw each other? Corliss let out a breath and watched as the wind carried it away. "I don't know, Priam. Does it matter? We have a job to do. Come on."

The wind picked up and the sky above darkened. Corliss realized that she was starting to shiver, so she turned and began to head back for the enclosed speeder they'd used to reach this point from where the _Theta_-class shuttle had landed. She tried not to concern herself with whether or not the Shadow Guard was behind her, but felt her breath release a moment later once she discerned his steps. They made the trip back to the shuttle in silence.

Soon enough the troopers were guiding the ship towards the hyperlane, so Corliss decided to return to her cabin; there wasn't much to entertain herself with besides sleeping and possibly dreaming about Antinnis. However, as she passed by Priam in the common area, he said her title, which made her pause and turn to him. "What?"

"This Padawan we're searching for," he said. "She is your age?"

Corliss straightened her spine and regarded him. "Three years younger. Why?"

"So you knew each other." The words were measured, as if he doled them out with such irregularity that he was reluctant to let any go to waste.

Her eyes narrowed. "Just because we're close in age doesn't mean we were friends, Priam."

As she turned to leave, his voice caught her again. "I said nothing about the two of you being friends, Acolyte Auset. It was merely a humble observation on my part." The word _humble _was slightly emphasized, enough to alert her to the fact that he was baiting her – again.

She should have let it go, should have ignored him and gone to her cabin and shut him out of her mind. But something within her flared, igniting her temper, and she felt anger simmer within her. "Shadow Tor, I suppose I should remind you of your role in my mission: you are a guardian, only. I'm the one – the only one – who will be making _observations_ about any and all facets of this venture."

She lifted her chin and allowed the full force of her emotions to seep from her skin, filling the air with the heat of her ire. "Save your petty theories for the troopers. They're the only ones who have to listen to them."

With that she turned to leave, half-wondering if he'd grab her wrist again and only half-thinking she'd mind.

Again he surprised her, and did not follow.

* * *

Against the backdrop of black space and amid few, scattered stars, Humbarine glittered.

It was not like Coruscant, where Johari had only been a handful of times in her tenure as a Ranger. That place teemed with life: satellites, starships and orbital mirrors placed at intervals throughout the atmosphere; she knew that even it its present, subjugated state, Coruscant glowed and sparkled, light from its star winking off of the ubiquitous transports that made their way to and from the surface. Even from a distance, Coruscant was unmistakably alive.

Humbarine, by comparison, appeared barren. Barely a day after leaving Taloraan, their journey thus far had been quiet. As Drake angled the _Spiral Dance _down through the upper atmosphere, the Ranger could see the surface of the world shimmering with their approach, but it was not due to the massive buildings that had once dominated the ecumenopolis, nor by lights from the planet's population. As they approached, Jo felt her heart sinking with anticipated dread, because she _remembered _the last time she'd looked on this sight.

It was as if a massive fist had grasped hold of the planet and squeezed all evidence of life into dust and slivers of glass.

In some places, piles of molten slag and crumbling rock were all that remained of the once-magnificent structures that had housed millions of life-forms. In others, the skeletons of the buildings remained, although there appeared to be none that were without some kind of damage. Through the planet's twilight, the _Dance _skimmed low over remnants of skyscrapers, many of which had been turned into little more than fragments of duracrete, with rivers of crushed glass eddying through them, causing the deceptive glittering appearance from orbit.

Levy's head was bent over the scanner; after a moment he glanced up, his expression grim, and indicated something on the screen before him, though it was Zara who spoke. "Levy says that there's no life signs...at all." Her voice was quiet as they passed close beside a broken building, a gaping hole visible in its side, through which Jo caught a glimpse of a charred conservator with its door hanging ajar. "It's like a graveyard."

Tully made a noise of assent, but said nothing.

The young clone at the helm shot Johari a careful look, and when he spoke his voice was terse, professional. "Any of this look familiar to you?"

"Too familiar," she replied. As much as she wanted to close her eyes, she felt that it would be disrespectful to those who had perished, so she indicated a direction to the north. "Do you see those hills? Past them...no more than a few klicks. There should be series of wide fields, soon." Her throat grew dry as Drake eased the _Dance _to follow the path she'd delineated.

They flew in silence for some time until she urged him to stop; slowly, the _Spiral Dance _descended to Humbarine's surface, landing on a flat stretch of ground amidst a crumbling section of buildings. Beyond the buildings was a wide field, glittering in the light of the setting sun.

"'_Our souls are now trapped on the coruscate field..._'" Zara's voice was a whisper as they stared at the landscape, which was peppered with shards of broken duraglass, no doubt backlash from the collapse of the myriad of buildings around it.

Jo cleared her throat. "I remember Atreus telling me that this area used to be a series of greenspaces in the capitol. They used them as parks, areas for sporting events or other recreational activities, that kind of thing." She watched as a wind kicked up, sending spirals of dust up towards the sky, which was darkening fast and far too clear.

"I guess most of the atmospheric dampeners were destroyed during Grievous' attack," Drake added, twisting in his seat. "The sensors indicate that there's not much breathable air. You said you have breathing masks, right? Looks like we'll need 'em."

About a quarter of an hour later they were outfitted with breathing masks and small, portable oxygen filters in backpacks, along with flashlights and blasters; again, they stood by the hatch, facing the unknown. Despite the air being filtered to her lungs, Jo found that her breathing was labored, and the pace of blood in her veins had quickened, as if her whole body was rebelling at the idea of returning to this place. As Tully activated the hatch and it began to lower before them, she tried to swallow back her apprehension.

Ilum hadn't been this way; nor had Taloraan. Why was it _this_ place that she could remember, and nothing else?

The ramp halted once it touched the ground and some faint memory stirred within Johari; Atreus' wry voice rising up from the depths of her mind: _even in the midst of death, life persists. _An image followed, a white flower with curved petals. A name...a word...something echoed in her thoughts and she took a breath, feeling her pulse steady. "Let's go."

She led the way down the ramp, eyes on the distance, and for about an hour they walked slowly through the decimated city, passing through a network of open spaces of varying sizes. At each one, Jo looked for something familiar, something that she couldn't _quite _put a name to – yet. There was nothing but remnants of destruction for a long time: piles of rubble that crunched beneath their boots, the sound filling the otherwise still air; skeletons of a few trees that had managed to withstand the attack and remain upright; the ubiquitous broken glass that glittered beneath the touch of their flashlights' beams.

Eventually they heard the sound of rushing water, and she wondered if an underground sewer line had burst, although a quick sweep with Levy's portable scanner indicated that there was a water treatment facility of some kind nearby. They had landed a littler farther away that she remembered, but it would be okay, because she knew what they were looking for, and-

"Hear that humming noise? Is that a ship?" Tully sounded wary. Everyone else's head snapped up to look, and Drake let out a swift utterance of a curse as the fading sun caught the underside of an distant vessel. It wasn't large, by any means, but it was a model used by the Imperials. Withdrawing his blaster from its hilt, Tully moved to stand behind Jo. "No sight-seers, I'll bet."

Now that she was so close, Jo found that she couldn't resist the urge to keep going, to retrace her own steps and remember everything she was able, but she was frozen in place. Suddenly, Zara let out a gasp, her eyes widening as she stared up at the approaching, triangular-shaped shuttle. Drake asked her what was wrong but she seemed unable to respond for a moment, until finally she shook her head.

"It can't be," she whispered as the new ship descended, landed, hissed to a standstill. "It's impossible..."

"What does that mean, kid?" Tully asked, flexing his legs.

The Padawan swallowed, a look of pain crossing her face, and Drake touched her shoulder as if to offer comfort. "I know her," she whispered, nodding to the ship where a slender, dark figure was emerging, flanked by one black-armored and four white-armored soldiers. Moments later, Zara whirled and looked at her companions, eyes wide as if seeing them for the first time. "You have to go," she said in an urgent voice. "Find whatever it is you need to find. I can keep her occupied."

"Zar...who's 'she'?" Drake asked. "What's going on?"

Taking a deep breath, Zara spoke in a rush. "A...girl I used to know, back at the Temple. I thought she was killed during the Order, but..." Her voice broke and she seemed to be fighting back tears. "But I guess not. But she's...I can feel the Dark Side surrounding her," the Padawan finished, shaking her head. "You have to go. I can sense her intent, and she wants _me._"

Drake shook his head. "I'm not leaving you, Zara." Beside him, Levy glowered and shook his head as well, his expression clearly indicating the same thing.

"None of this will make a spit of difference in a second," Tully snarled. "I can tell they didn't land too far...we need to find cover, and _now._"

No sooner had the words left his mouth then the stormtroopers raised their weapons, and the demolished gray of the buildings around them began to be painted with shots of bright crimson. Jo grabbed Tully's arm and pulled him towards her; Drake and Levy found cover for the group beneath a fallen archway as smoke started to fill the area. Once Jo crouched beside him and pointed Tully in the direction to fire, the young clone frowned and glanced around.

"Where's Zara?"

* * *

Another _cliffhanger? I'm so mean..._

_Humbarine was an amazing planet to write; brutal, horrific, but fun in a really morbid way. I know this may sound odd, but it was actually my favorite planet out of this whole journey.  
_

_Corliss picked up the scent rather quickly; more on her later on.  
_

_Awww, and let's not forget the kiss – finally! :D_

_The "single, lonely heart" thing is a reference to the fact that full-blooded Nautolans have two hearts, but Zar - half-breed that she is - only has the one. (I'm sure there's a Sgt. Pepper's joke in there, somewhere. :P)_

_Thanks for reading! _


	15. World Of Dark Mirrors

Song: "Passing By," by Zero 7, from the album, _When It Falls._

_FYI, this chapter is a bit darker than the others...approach with caution. _

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: World Of Dark Mirrors**

_All the promises I gave you,**  
**Helped me to survive.**  
**And all the times I wished you'd save me,**  
**You were the love of my life._

_A little while ago, in the Deep Core..._

Although no one knew for certain, it was widely supposed that the rumors were true.

Each night, the citizens of Prakith whispered to one another that the noises coming from the direction of Citadel Inquisitorius were the dying shrieks of those Jedi who'd been unlucky enough to fall into the hands of the Empire's agents. The planet's HoloNet offered other explanations for the moaning sounds, the wind in the mountains being chief among them. Actually, because of the storms which frequented that area of the world, the weather patterns were a frequent scapegoat. Among other things, countless words were wrought upon the citizens to keep them quiet and calm; there was a veritable deluge of excuses and explanations, ideas, theories and speculation...all of it decidedly harmless.

Of course, Antinnis Tremayne knew otherwise.

Even though he rarely saw fit to concern himself with the opinions of the planet's inhabitants, he did not enjoy having to explain to his master why so much energy was needed to quell the populace. Deep within the Citadel's interrogation chambers, he leveled his eyes with the pale-skinned, Nagai male suspended in energy cuffs, and gave a wide smile. "I must ask that you refrain from such exclamations, my friend."

The Jedi that Corliss had brought to Prakith said nothing, just continued his labored breathing, his red-rimmed eyes locked onto Tremayne's, though the Inquisitor thought that he should have been watching the trooper who stood beside him, holding the electrified weal-rod.

"Now that I have your attention," Tremayne said, beginning a slow walk around his Near-Human subject, his voice resonating off of the bare walls that surrounded them. "I shall ask you again: what do you know of a Jedi named Djinn Altis?"

Silence, broken only by the other male's huff of air.

Tremayne was patient; the trooper's grip tightened around the slender instrument, but the High Inquisitor gave a slight shake of his head. _Not now. _He paused behind the Nagai, noting how the Jedi's senses were straining to follow him, even dampened as they were by the energy-cuffs. "I do wish you wouldn't make this so difficult," he said in an idle voice, as if they were speaking of the weather. "At this point, you have nothing to lose by sharing your information with me."

The Nagai spoke in a language that the High Inquisitor vaguely recognized, but it was more to himself. There was silence for a beat after that, then Tremayne began to walk again, circling around the Jedi and coming to a halt in front of him.

"You are strong with the Force, to be able to resist me for so long," the High Inquisitor said. "Perhaps killing you would be a waste. Perhaps you would be willing to make a new life – a better life – for yourself in the service of the Empire."

As he spoke, he reached out with the Force and brushed the Nagai's mind, sifting through the undercurrents of pain and fear to reach the core of anger that was starting to build. The Jedi recoiled from the mental invasion, his body starting to shake with his efforts to resist, but Tremayne pressed just a little harder, and continued his words.

"There is nothing for you out there, my friend. Nothing but pain and loss and death. I can offer you the answers you seek. I can offer you peace and freedom. All I ask in return is one thing. One, tiny thing." He leaned closer, dropping the pitch of his words to just above a whisper but putting the full force of his persuasive powers to bear upon the other male's already worn defenses. "It's pointless to delay the inevitable. We both know that you will tell me what I want to know. You will tell me what _you _know about the Altisians, Knight Irezou."

The Nagai broke at the sound of his own name. His head dropped, his shoulders sagged and Tremayne felt his mind relent and give way to the three-day long interrogation; moments later he spoke in a hoarse whisper: "Mundali. Altis has set up a base on a planet called Mundali."

Searching his memory, Tremayne could not recall such a place, so he reached to the other male with the Force once more, noting with no small amount of satisfaction that the way through the Jedi's consciousness was now without barriers. "Where could one find this planet?"

The Jedi's eyes closed and he shook his head slowly. "Somewhere in the Outer Rim. I don't know exactly where."

"Is that all, my friend?"

Silence hung between them, then the Nagai visibly shuddered and his head started shaking. "There was a rumor...Altis has collected a group of Force-sensitives on Toydaria, to move them to Mundali, but it was only a rumor..." His eyes lifted and fell on Tremayne in a pleading fashion before they closed again. "Hardly a whisper."

Besides truth, there was shame in his words, so Tremayne modulated his own voice to be kind, comforting. "Thank you, Irezou. You have made the right decision." He glanced at the trooper whose back straightened. "I have no further use for this," he said to the soldier, indicating the bound Jedi. "Dispose of it."

At the words, Irezou's head lifted and his eyes fell on Tremayne. Expecting the customary exclamations over the shock of betrayal, the Inquisitor turned to leave. However, as he reached the doorway, the black-haired male spoke one last time, his voice rough but strong. "There is no death, Tremayne. There is only the Force."

"I suppose you'll find out sooner than I," the High Inquisitor said, and slipped out of the room; another noise of pain attempted to follow him out the door, but his steps were fluid and soon he was away from the interrogation chambers, making his way through the labyrinthine passages to a turbolift that would deposit him near his office. Only when the lift doors closed behind him did he allow himself to scowl.

So, Djinn Altis was accumulating Jedi on some backwater planet in the Rim. He supposed it was not unheard of – particularly after the incident on Kessel several years ago, it bothered him that he'd not heard of Mundali – or the Force-sensitives collecting on Toydaria, for that matter – and he didn't like being caught unawares.

As if to add to his frustration, his comlink chimed, the particular cadence of sounds alerting him that the priority was high. Immediately he paused the lift, dropped to a kneeling position on the floor, and activating the device in one fluid motion. "Yes, Master."

The transmission was voice-only, but the resonant growl of Darth Vader's voice filled the small space as well as the recesses of the High Inquisitor's own mind. "What news of the Altisian Jedi?"

"Altis has collected a group of Force-sensitives on the world of Toydaria," Tremanye began after taking a breath. "Master, if we could bring them here to be trained as Inquisitors...you know better than I do that strength lies in numbers."

Vader made a noise of acknowledgment, so Tremayne continued.

"The other Altisians have sequestered themselves on an Outer-Rim world called Mundali, Master," Tremayne said, pitching his voice to be steady and devoid of emotion. "My agent is in the process of apprehending a former inhabitant of that world, who will lead us to it, and to Altis himself."

For several moments there was only the slight hiss of breath – the sound had become ingrained in Tremayne's mind ever since he'd been recruited on Byss – but no response came. Fighting back his own agitation, Tremayne spoke again. "Corliss will not fail me, Master. She is skilled, more so than any of the other acolytes."

"Your concern for your pet makes little difference to me," Vader replied. "I want every last Altisian found and brought to Prakith at once. It seems there is a use for them."

"Yes, my lord."

Save for the modulated breathing, there was silence once more. Finally Vader spoke again. "Provided you succeed, Tremayne, your efforts will be rewarded. If you fail..." The words trailed off, leaving the unspoken echoing within the High Inquisitor's mind.

So Tremayne replied in a smooth voice. "I understand, my Master." The comm went dead immediately after but he remained kneeling for a moment, taking several deep breaths of air to compose himself, then rose and activated the lift once more. Shaking out the rippling crimson of his zeyd-cloth robe, Tremayne watched the numbers on the turbolift until he reached his destination. Once he was seated at his desk, he activated his holo-transmitter.

A flick of his wrist called up the form of Corliss, kneeling dutifully before the transmitter, awaiting his words. The word came out more clipped than he'd meant, but it mattered little. "Report."

There was a pause before she spoke, her voice somewhat distorted by the transmission. "Master. I have tracked Padawan Karell and her accomplices to the Humbarine system; while I don't know _why_ they're traveling from planet to planet – the Taloraan locals were not very forthcoming – I am confident that-"

"Your confidence means nothing until she is in my custody," he interjected. "Spare me your commentary unless I explicitly request it. Is that understood?"

She had started to tremble at the sharp tone of his voice, and he was captivated by the movement of her throat as she swallowed down her protests. "Yes, Master."

He gave a sigh and rubbed at his forehead in an exaggerated motion of pain, noting how her face turned up to watch him. "Forgive me, Corliss," he said after a moment. "I didn't mean to be so harsh with you. Things are...difficult here. The Jedi that you brought me was most resistant to my efforts, and my own Master is starting to get impatient for results. I know the Altisians are said to be in hiding on an world called Mundali, but have no way to locate such a place."

"How can I help you?" She was looking at him in earnest now, her eyes wide.

Tremayne allowed a small smile to play across his lips, and watched her return the look. "I can think of a few ways...but they involve you being in my company." It was more explicit than anything he'd said to her in the past, and he watched her skin flush with arousal. Even through a hologram, he could feel her desire for him, and it made his smile widen to a rare, feral grin.

Corliss straightened further. "I promise you, Antinnis...she will be in my custody soon, and I'll bring her back to you."

Nodding, he took a breath and recaptured his neutral expression. For some moments there was silence, and he watched her shift in place as she started to wonder if he was done speaking with her. Finally he voiced his next question, ensuring that his words were without unnecessary inflection that might give his intentions away. "The Shadow Guard has behaved himself, I trust? I was reluctant to send him off with you – alone – but such things are out of my hands."

Zeltrons were terrible liars, and Corliss' face was far too expressive, so it took everything he had not to chuckle at her attempt at a ruse. "I stay away from him and only speak to him when absolutely necessary, Master." She frowned, as if irritated with something. "He thinks he's better than us."

The tone of her voice betrayed her; Tremayne noted that her pitch had dropped slightly, and he could see the flush creep back in her skin as she thought of the Shadow. But he kept his own voice innocuous. "I'm afraid you can't expect anything else from a his ilk, my dear. But I'm pleased to know that you're keeping away from him." Now he allowed himself a light chuckle. "May I tell you a secret, Corliss?"

"Of course, Antinnis." The acolyte leaned forward, her expression eager.

He paused again, long enough to make her think the words were difficult for him to say, but not so long that the silence felt contrived. "I am a bit...jealous of the Shadow Guard, for his proximity to something as lovely as you while you search the stars together."

Silence. He watched her features turn from curiosity to wonder, finally settling on pleasure as she gave him a wide smile. "Antinnis...I won't fail you," she said at last, her voice a little breathless. "I'll be back, soon, with the Padawan, and she'll tell us what we need to know."

"I look forward to it," he replied just before he signed off, after which he turned his attention to other, more important matters and thought of her no more.

* * *

_Back on Humbarine..._

Everything around Corliss was varying shades of gray, brown and black save two things: the slashes of crimson and electric blue that tore through the air between her troopers and the renegade clones who had managed to scramble for cover in the few seconds they'd had, and the pale, sea-blue of Zara Karell as she sprinted away from her allies. Corliss' vision tunneled and she leaped after the Padawan, urging her body forward through the Force and ignoring the scream of blaster fire that punctuated the otherwise still air.

Behind her, she heard Priam following, so she turned and shouted at him – something she wouldn't remember, later – and he actually obeyed, falling back to stand with the stormtroopers and raising his saber-pike. Satisfied, Corliss continued running, her eyes on Zara's retreating figure as it darted through a section of crumbling structures and slashed, broken duracrete.

Soon the sounds of battle were far away, and Corliss realized that her breath was growing shorter than it should, so she activated the small device at her side that allowed oxygen to flow through her breathing mask, and noticed that her quarry had a similar – if somewhat more ungainly – accoutrement. As if realizing that running was no longer a viable option, Zara stopped suddenly and turned to face her enemy. A blue blade sprang to life in her hand and her dark eyes fell on Corliss, still quite wide with shock.

The hiss and hum of her own sabers was music to the Inquisitor acolyte, and she lifted both her standard and smaller, _shoto _blade in preparation for the coming battle. Zara swallowed and her _lekku _shifted with agitation – indeed, Corliss could sense it now, rippling off of the other girl like a stone tossed in a pond. She wanted to lunge, wanted to strike, but held herself in check, because she knew better. During the years of her apprenticeship to Tremayne, she'd learned a few things, after all.

_Demoralization is a tool, Corliss,_ Antinnis' voice echoed in her mind as she gave the Padawan a wide smile, flashing her teeth in a predatory manner. _Use it to your advantage. _

"I see that you survived the Purge," Corliss said conversationally. "How?"

Zara blinked once, clearly taken aback by the casual nature of Corliss' tone, before she replied. "It was just luck, Lissy. But I guess I should ask the same thing of you."

Jaw clenching at the use of her childish nickname, Corliss stepped forward. "Luck...how wonderful. I'm so glad that you were _lucky_ while the rest of us fought for our lives."

"I didn't..."

Anger swelled within Corliss at the words she imagined were forthcoming, so she gave a feral growl and lunged forward, bringing both of her blades to bear upon her former friend. For several moments they whirled and countered, thrust and slid, while the ruins of the city around them seemed to bleed all color from their humming sabers, leaving them muted and dull. The pavement below Corliss' feet was uneven, unstable, riddled with chunks of duracrete and broken glass that crunched beneath her boots. Her attack increased in ferocity, her vision swam with red.

_Demoralization._

"I know what happened...you ran off with the Altisians, didn't you? While everyone else was cut down...you _hid._" She felt her control wavering, but the onslaught of anger and indignation had caught her off guard. So, rather than succumb to it, Corliss embraced the emotions as she struck.

Zara gave a yelp of pain and stumbled back, her left hand brushing up to one of her _lekku_, which was already red and swollen from the barest kiss of Corliss' blade. Pausing, Corliss glared at the other girl, allowing Zara a moment to collect herself because Corliss wasn't ready for this fight to be over. The blue blade hummed, still resolute even as Zara managed to stumble backwards, stopping when her heel touched a fallen pillar.

When her former friend looked at her, Corliss could see tears brimming in Zara's dark eyes. "Lissy...what's happened to you? What have you become?"

For some reason, the sorrow in Zara's voice drove Corliss to the furthest reaches of fury, and she hoped that her anger was radiating off of her skin with enough force to choke as she said her next words.

"What I needed to be, to survive," she snarled, forgetting Antinnis' urgings of calm, of collection. She lunged again, but both of her blades sank into the stone of the pillar because the Padawan had darted away at the last moment, somersaulting up and behind Corliss' head to land several paces back in the direction from which they'd come.

They stood facing each other for a moment, breathing labored. In the distance, Corliss could hear the incongruous sound of rushing water, but dimly pushed it aside, along with the effort her lungs were making to sustain her in the thin air, even with the breathers. They were in a section of the city that had not been as devastated as the rest, and all around them were massive, duracrete buildings, many of which were nearly whole. Darkness collected around them as the space between the structures lessened, although there were still no signs of life, and the only sounds were the humming plasma blades, and the sound of Corliss' boots as they shattered a bit of glass that had the audacity to be in her path.

"Don't do this, Lissy," Zara cried out even as the Zeltron came for her with measured steps. "Please...I don't want to fight you."

Their eyes were locked onto one another, and after a moment Corliss gave the other young woman a cold smile. "It's a bit late for that, don't you think, Zar?"

* * *

Drake frowned as he spared a moment to glance around them. "Where's Zara?" However, as the words left his mouth he caught sight of her, a streak of pale-blue against the gray rubble. He shouted her name once, but she didn't turn, not even to glance at the dark form of a young woman who was following, crimson sabers cutting through the shadows.

"Zar!"

Of their own volition his knees straightened and the muscles in his legs tensed as if to propel himself after her, but a hand on his arm stopped him and Tully's voice managed to carry through the shrieking battle. "Let her go, kid," the elder clone said. "If what she said is true...it's a battle she needs to fight. Far as I'm concerned, the less glowsticks around here, the better. They make me nervous."

A blaster bolt met its mark at the duracrete archway that was sprawled before them, sending a spray of debris into their faces. Tully swore and straightened, firing in the general direction of the others; beside him, the Ranger had pulled out a slender blaster and was engaged in a similar fashion, though she was also calling out directions to Tully so that his aim would be true. On her other side, Levy's eyes were narrowed in concentration as he fired on the stormtroopers. Reluctantly, Drake cast one last look in the direction that Zara had gone before turning back to face their enemies.

Four white-armored soldiers had taken cover in the shadow of a dilapidated building across the street from their own position. The next section of park was perhaps two hundred yards to Drake's right, with the nearby portion of city providing cover for the opposing forces, and the young clone realized at once that the outcome of this battle would depend entirely on who walked out of the fight between Zara and...that other girl.

Her friend, she had said; someone she knew at the 's throat tightened as he recalled the pain in her voice, but he pushed the feeling away to focus on the present. They still had a mission. "Jo," he called out to the Echani woman at Tully's side. "You need to go find that other clue before Zara gets back."

"Is that really a priority right now?" Tully's voice was sharp.

But something crossed over the Ranger's face and she nodded, crouching down. As she prepared to sneak away towards a nearby section of building, Drake glanced at Levy. "I need you to go with her, _vod,_" he said, watching as his brother's eyes widened. "Not safe for anyone to go off alone."

_You'll be okay? _Levy's hands flew, the words broken when he turned to fire on the troopers.

"We'll be fine," Drake replied, trying to inject cool confidence into his voice. "An ARC and a command-clone...no power in the 'verse can stop us."

Beside him, Tully grunted, but Drake didn't know if it was in assent or mockery. Fear crossed Levy's face but he only nodded once, turning to the Echani woman. The two of them exchanged a look before they darted off, leaving Drake and Tully to fend off the others.

Plasma sang through the air all around them, the tempo increasing with each moment. "You gotta tell me where to shoot, kid," Tully said suddenly as they knelt beside one another. "Be my eyes, okay?"

"Straight ahead," Drake replied, trying not to wonder if he'd sent his last brother off to certain death, too. "Four stormies." He frowned over the words; something about them was wrong, but he didn't have time to think over it before another series of shots careened for his head.

"Four stormies, eh?" Tully's teeth bared into a fierce grin and he sat up to fire, blue bolts leaping from both of his blasters. "Not for long."

* * *

At first it was slow going, as Levy and Johari had to squeeze through all manner of broken buildings in order to reach a safe distance from the battle so that they could break into a run. As bits of rubble and slag skittered away from his boots, Levy glanced at the slender Ranger who kept pace with him. He got the distinct sense that she was holding back even as he noted the flutter of her coat behind them. Johari's movements were controlled; her strides were not as extended as he thought they could have been, and he realized after a moment of observation that she seemed uncertain, which he supposed accounted for the lag in her stride.

They paused within what appeared to be a crumbling hotel, the top half of which had been destroyed; the windows and doors were shattered, though Levy could see bits of smooth marble, broken crystal from a chandelier, and stained, filthy carpet beneath the rubble. Save for the blood pounding in his ears it was silent, and as his agitation grew, so did the itchy feeling in his arm.

"Listen," she whispered, the sound stilling his hand as it crept up to scratch.

He listened. The shriek of blaster fire was distant, and he tried not to feel a sear of guilt for leaving Drake and Tully. However, the Echani woman gave him an encouraging smile, the sight wholly unexpected in the ruins around them. "We have a duty," she said in her quiet voice. "And I think I know where I'm going."

_It's the little things, isn't it? _He wondered if she'd get the joke, as sarcasm didn't translate so well with his hands. However, she must have read his expression as well, for she smiled again – smaller this time, but more true – and then nodded towards a portion of the far wall that had been ripped asunder.

Simultaneously, they rose and hurried for the opening.

Outside was much the same, save for a strange, single hill that swelled up before them. But there was no time to wonder at the sight of something that should have been terraformed away on such a populous place, as Johari was ahead of him, skimming along the ground with the grace of a foaming wave cresting over the seashore. He followed, glancing around; beyond the hill he could make out a wide, white field, and beyond that more buildings. A soft noise sounded behind him, almost like a footstep-

Wait...a _white_ field? Here?

Jo reached the crest of the hill and froze. Moments later he was beside her and it was all they could do to just stare at the sight that was laid before them.

It was not the largest open patch of ground they'd encountered since arriving on Humbarine, nor was it the smallest. Levy honestly didn't know if there was anything significant about the place that might ave indicated why such a thing had occurred, but all he could see was _white._

Flowers, hundreds of thousands of white flowers with long, curving petals and thick stems covered the once-barren ground like so much snow, like sea foam, like sunlight. The sky had darkened further still – time seemed to pass slowly here – but the flowers illuminated the entire area, shivering tongues of white flame as they trembled beneath the breeze. Beyond the field were more broken buildings, more remnants of death and destruction, but for now, his eyes swam with _life._

There was a soft noise beside him; looking over, Levy realized that Jo had fallen to her knees, her eyes wide and her face streaked with tears as she stared at the field and at the flowers. He wished he could offer her some comfort, but no words came to him. After a moment she looked up and met his gaze.

"I remember, now," she whispered. "Atreus and I...we planted these." She began to get to her feet, the movement ungainly with her grief, and without a thought he offered her his hand to steady her. She accepted. They began to walk down the hill, towards the meadow.

_What are they? _he asked with his hands as they reached the edges of the field.

"_Kina _flowers," she replied, bending down to caress the petals of the nearest one. It was larger than he'd expected, lacking the delicacy of most cultivated blossoms, but with a rough, wild beauty all its own. "They're grown on Glee Anselm to enrich the nutrient-poor soil found on that world. Atreus wanted to bring them here to leave a memorial of a sort." She looked up at him, a strange mixture of sorrow and joy on her face, even though it was partially obscured by the breathing mask. "Aren't they beautiful?"

The breeze lifted her pale hair; behind her he could make out the backdrop of _kina_ flowers, interspersed with patches of dark soil. As he gave a slow nod, her silver eyes remained fixed on his own, then turned back to the flower at her feet.

That was when the attack came.

It was as if a shadow had broken apart from the city and come for them. One minute Levy was standing upright; the next he felt a searing pain in his right leg as he was brought to the ground by a glancing blow from a lightsaber pike, wielded by a man in black armor, the one that had accompanied Zara's former friend and the stormtroopers. Mentally cursing both his stupidity and his lack of speech, Levy righted himself as best he could, given the wind had been knocked from his lungs and the fact that his leg was burning badly. But already their attacker had drove forward, aiming for Jo, and Levy realized that she was not drawing her blaster, had not even had a chance to straighten.

The dark figure sprang for her, but Johari evaded him, rolling out of the way with one fluid motion. When she righted herself, twin song-steel blades glinted in her hands and her stance was fixed. The black-armored man struck, lighting-fast. Johari's body rippled out of the way, as if she was wind on the water.

Somehow, the tattered, brown coat she wore slipped to the ground and they circled each other for a moment; Levy gritted his teeth through the pain in his leg that had increased exponentially and fumbled with his blaster, hoping to get a shot in. But the two of them were locked in a strange kind of dance, now, their bodies moving so quickly that his eye could hardly follow. Johari was light, shining white as she spun her body through the flowers, her steps making no sound. While avoiding the swing of his saber-staff, her legs and arms made small movements, the blades in her hands seeming to beckon her opponent closer, and Levy could hear the thud of impact when she landed a blow upon him, which was often.

She was good – amazing, even – but her opponent was as well.

The man in black armor matched her movement for movement, blow for blow. His boots trampled what blossoms he came across, his every action seemed designed to cause as much damage as possible. More than a few times she nearly missed being struck by the saber-staff.

It was no use, Levy couldn't move. His leg was in too much pain for him to stand, but he could still shoot. _Take this, you kriffing son of a nerf herder,_ he thought, raising his blaster and letting loose a volley of fire during an instant the warriors broke apart.

But the black-armored man ducked and avoided the shots, though he did seem to remember that Levy was there, and sprang for him. Levy looked up and realized with a flash of fear that the figure had blended into the night sky above his head, obscuring the stars.

And then Jo was before him, somehow faster than his eye could make out, her hair loose from its braid and her blades raised to meet her foe. The clash began again, this time so close he could feel the ground trembling with their movements. Even as Levy raised his blaster again, determined to get a shot in, he tried to call Zara through the Force.

_Zar...where are you? We need to go! Jo knows the next place..._

There was no reply. He had a comlink, but there was no time to notify his brother, as the black-armored man turned to him, slid past Johari, and angled the angry red of the saber-staff towards Levy's heart.

* * *

_Gah! Another cliffhanger? Cruel and unusual, I tell you. ;)_

_The scenes on Humbarine were some of my favorites to write – lots of angst and drama – though admittedly I know that I have trouble with action sequences. _

_And...oh dear, it looks like Tremayne now knows the name of Mundali, and its possible location. Not good. Not good at all. It was interesting to write Vader as well...he's not really in the fic at all, but he is Tremayne's "boss," and needed to make a (sorta) appearance. _

_So, we know our next destination, (Glee Anselm), but it looks like getting there is going to be tricky..._

_Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a review or comment! (Did you catch the _Firefly_ reference? Apparently I like those. :P)  
_


	16. Teardrop On the Fire

Song: "Teardrop On The Fire," by Massive Attack, from the album, _Mezzanine_.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: Teardrop On The Fire**

_Love, love is a verb;  
Love is a doing word,  
Fearless on my breath.  
Gentle impulsion,  
Shakes me, makes me lighter.  
Fearless on my breath._

_There is no emotion, there is peace. _

Zara said the words again in her mind as she and Corliss circled each other, moving through a clearing between broken buildings; she forced back the thrill of sorrow and guilt that threatened to overwhelm her whole heart as she felt Corliss' dark anger sweep across the area like a tide. Coupled with the ferocity of her former friend's attack, it was dizzying, so much so that Zara found herself hard-pressed to keep her footing as they stepped over the unstable layers of rubble that coated the ground.

The only sounds were the wavering hum of their sabers and the press of boots against crumbled duracrete. Although the air was cool, sweat had already started to slick against her palms, and the Padawan could feel the flagging oxygen sap at her strength. Even with the mask, her own breathing was labored, a by-product of the thin air, and she noticed that Corliss' appeared to be the same. Black armor, polished to a sheen, covered her former friend's form like a second skin; it gave Corliss the appearance of a slick of oil moving against the air. At some point her hair had fallen down, framing her dusky pink face with threads of blue-black.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Corliss' voice broke the spell.

Zara wondered that she had not attacked further; a brief glance around showed her that they'd reached what must have been an industrial center at some point, for there were networks of pipes and duracrete tunnels that covered the area. Corliss' eyes remained fixed on her, seemingly heedless of their surroundings.

Something like hope flared within Zara. Maybe if she could get Corliss to talk, she could help her, somehow. So she looked back at the Zeltron, who was scowling at her. "Like what?"

A minute shift in Corliss' stance alerted Zara to the fact that she was about to spring; the Padawan drew on all of her training and tensed her own body, waiting for just the right moment. Corliss lunged. Zara twisted out of the way and the other girl shot her a dark look once she righted herself. "Like you have hope."

Making no reply, Zara readied her stance again, wavering between Soresu and Ataru and trying to recall Honi's lessons about not wasting movement.

Again, they circled each other, and Zara wondered if her friend was stalling, or if she was hesitating. Neither would be like the Corliss from her memory.

Minutes later, they approached a fallen pylon that reached over a drainage pool that was broad and open to the sky, filled with turgid water the color of ash. Glancing briefly down, Zara looked at the dark-armored young woman and felt sorrow again tug at her heart. "What if I do have hope?"

Without warning, Corliss darted for her again, crimson sabers angled for her heart and head. There was neither time nor room to leap away, so Zara was forced to block the attack with her blade, which was all she was able to do for some time, as Corliss' fury seemed to rise up from the smoldering embers of her former control. The Zeltron's movements were frenetic, wild. Like a dervish, she spun and tilted her body towards Zara, each crash of plasma seeming to echo in Zara's ears with her friend's anger.

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

Those words felt very small and far away now, as Zara tried to keep her footing and her head against the full force of Corliss' attack. Through her _lekku, _she could taste the air around them, acrid with hot emotion: her own fear and sorrow, and Corliss' bitter anger. The only indication that any amount of time had passed was the slow burn of Zara's muscles as they worked to defend her against the onslaught of red plasma. Part of her mind recognized the fact that she was weakening, that her strength was not enough against the full force of Corliss' considerable anger, or the rippling Dark energy that she could feel coiling around her friend's heart.

The metallic pylon was slippery with water below, which was flowing unchecked; perhaps at one point the water had provided hydroelectric power to the area, but now it rose up from Humbarine's crust, rushing to an end she couldn't see. Zara stumbled. Corliss lunged.

Only just able to roll out of the way in time, Zara fell backward and landed ungracefully upon some type of service platform below them, barely a meter from the water. Beneath her, she could see and hear its rush, but could only smell ash. However, before she could truly get her bearings, Corliss landed behind her, less a real person and more of a shadow slipping from the edges of Zara's vision to stand before the Padawan. There was triumph in her eyes. Her mouth opened to speak.

But Zara beat her to it. "What happened to you, Lissy? How did you survive the Purge?"

Something changed within her friend's face, something softened, just for a moment, then her eyes grew hard again. "It doesn't matter."

Crimson sabers lifted.

"What happened to Alatea?" Zara thought her own voice sounded weak and tinny behind her breath mask, so she tried to keep her words steady. Her own saber hummed in her grip, not quite anxious for a fight, but prepared nonetheless.

Her former master's name stilled Corliss' hand and for a moment she seemed frozen, her lips slightly parted and her eyes wide, filled with memory. Uncertainty flickered from replacing the anger for the space of a heartbeat. Sensing her advantage, Zara pressed on. "She saved you, didn't she? Did she die to protect you? To make sure that you survived?"

Of course she didn't have any real idea of what had happened to her friend, but judging from Corliss' reaction, her theory seemed to be accurate enough. Silence, save the rush of water. Indeed, Corliss was trembling, and her hands gripped the hilts of her sabers a little too tightly. When she spoke, her voice was hardly a whisper, sucked away by the rushing water. "Alatea..."

"What would she say if she knew what you'd become?"

As quickly as it had descended, the uncertainty in her gaze vanished, and Corliss' eyes grew dark and focused again. "You're lucky I'm only supposed to capture you," she said, the words coming out as more of a snarl than speech, and anger again roiled off of her, almost blinding with its intensity. "Otherwise I see no reason to keep you alive to spread your weakness."

She lunged again, but Zara was ready, managing to twist out of the way by using the momentum of a sharp kick against a bit of broken pipe, hanging loose from one of the aqueduct's duracrete sides. However, she did not plan for the pipe to break free of its section of wall, and come careening down between the two young women. As Corliss made a powerful leap of the Force to avoid it, she accidentally struck her head against an overhanging pylon, and Zara felt her consciousness wane. The Zeltron hit the platform with a rough sound before sliding off into the rushing water below.

Without a thought, Zara deactivated and clipped her saber to her belt, then dove in after her friend.

Colder than she'd expected, the water was opaque with ash and dust. The force of its momentum was so great that she felt it rip away her breathing mask, but noted it only in passing. It was impossible to see anything, so Zara reached out with the Force to get a sense of Corliss' location: far ahead, still unconscious, her body tumbling through a swirl of debris. Zara gritted her teeth and urged her own body forward, calling on every bit of Force-energy she could muster to reach her friend.

For the duration, it felt as if hours had passed, but in reality it was only a few seconds until she felt the soft brush of hair against her fingertips, which she grabbed. There was a moment where she felt sorry for her friend as she tightened her grip against the current, though Zara supposed that Corliss couldn't hate her any more than she did already.

It was a petty thought at this time, but it sounded like something Drake would say, and she felt buoyed for a moment as she pulled her friend closer, reaching for Corliss' armored shoulders to get a better grip. She kicked once, bringing them both to the surface, and began searching for a way out of the viaduct even as she allowed them both to be propelled onward by the current. _There_. A slanting service ramp was extended into the water, just meters ahead on the left. If she was careful...

Zara called on the Force to carry them to safety, and moments later she was dragging Corliss' body out of the frigid water, noting that her friend's mask had also slipped away at some point, but she was more concerned with the fact that Corliss wasn't breathing.

"Lissy? Corliss?"

No response.

Heart racing, Zara tried to find her calm, as Honi would have done, imagining the red-haired woman's rhythmic voice as she described the proper procedure in a medical situation like this as she placed her hands against her friend's face, reaching out with the Force. _Clear the airways, first, Zara. The nose and mouth must be free of blockage so that the patient can breathe. _

A brush with her awareness told Zara that Corliss had inhaled much water; she rolled the Zeltron on her side and reached out with the Force to gently draw the liquid out through her mouth and nose. Immediately, Corliss began coughing and sputtering, the sounds turning to gasps after a few moments as she found her breath again.

Relief poured through Zara as the Zeltron struggled to sit upright, rubbing at her head with her hand. "Are you alright, Lissy?"

Rather than reply, Corliss only stared at her through dark, matted hair. Again, Zara pressed her friend. "Corliss...can you breathe okay? Are you hurt?"

Blinking once, Corliss shook her head, then nodded, brow furrowing in confusion. "I'm...I'm fine, Zar." There was no malice in her voice, no bitter anger. It was just Corliss, alone and frightened, which was even more discernible when she glanced at Zara again. Her mouth opened, but the word didn't come out for a few moments. Finally it did, hoarse. "Thanks."

Abruptly after this, the Zeltron turned her head to the side as her chest was wracked with more coughing, but by the sound of it, Zara could tell that it was her body's reaction to the trauma it had just endured, and knew that she would be okay. Sitting back on her heels, Zara watched her, and waited for her to regain speech, wondering at the words that had come unbidden to her mind.

_There is no chaos, there is harmony._

* * *

Things were hot and they weren't getting much better.

Gritting his teeth, Tully ducked down to switch out the power pack on one of his blasters while the kid continued firing beside him from their place behind some kind of collapsed archway, based on what Johari had told him when they'd first taken cover. Mentally, he tallied up how much ammo he had left, how much time Jo and the other kid had been gone, and realized grimly that it was far from an ideal situation.

From what he could tell, the battle appeared to be at an impasse. They'd been playing crossfire with the stormies for too long, with neither side being able to do much besides land a few shots near the other's position. Even as he'd been firing, Tully frowned to himself as he considered their situation, and he knew that if there was any hope of victory, the parameters of the fight needed to change; so, once his power pack was changed, he took a moment to slide his fingers inside his coat pocket. It was time to uneven the odds. Time to cause a little bit of chaos.

"What's our status, kid?" The breathing mask added a slightly mechanical taint to his voice that reminded him of the annunciators in his old kit.

There was a grunt of irritation as the whelp lobbed more blaster fire on the stormies, then he spoke. "Same as it was when you started changing out your ammo. How long does it take, anyway? I could use a hand."

Tully pulled out his last thermal det; the small device was always unexpectedly heavy in his palm. He inhaled and pressed his back against the smooth, rounded surface of a column that had long-ago toppled over, and knew that he needed to make this particular det count."I know that we're behind some kind of fancy, collapsed archway. What kind of cover do the stormies have?"

"They're in a building, Tully," the younger clone replied, irritation coloring his tone, though Tully could detect undercurrents of worry. "Broken and full of holes, but enough to cover them. Just like every other _shabla _building in this place."

Normally, the snippy tone of the younger clone's words would have made the former ARC's teeth grit in irritation, but he kept his cool remarkably well in the heat of battle. It was when everything was quiet that he felt his anger spike. Rather than make a sharp retort, Tully nodded in reply, then asked: "What's the building look like?"

Blaster fire shrieked around them, hot and heavy. Tully felt adrenaline thumping through his veins but kept his anxiety in check as he waited for the younger clone to respond. Finally, he managed, though his words were rushed. "Tall...full of holes...some kind of duracrete awning over the front, like it was a shop or something."

Things were getting better and better. A slow grin spread across Tully's face, but he smoothed it immediately."Great. I have a plan," the former ARC said. "But I need your help, okay kid?"

There was a sigh, then a break in the fire as the whelp knelt down beside him. "My name is _Drake_."

"Fine. Whatever. Look," Tully held out the det. "I need you to throw this on top of them, but not _at _them-"

"You had a thermal det the whole time? Why didn't you say so?" The younger clone's voice was incredulous, but Tully shook his head.

"I just have the one, so we need to make it count." He nodded behind them. "But if you can aim half as good as you argue..." The younger clone sighed again, but moments later Tully felt the det's weight lift from his hand and heard the shifting of clothing and crunch of gravel as the other clone repositioned himself. "Remember," Tully added. "We're going for maximum loss of structural integrity. Then – when they're trying do dig their way out – we'll charge, and _really_ give it to 'em."

A pause. Then: "Wait...charge? You want us to _rush_ them in a full-frontal assault?"

Trying not to laugh at the mixture of bewilderment and uncertainty in the whelp's voice, Tully nodded. "That's how an ARC trooper does it, kid. You're in the big leagues, now. Hurry up and toss that thing, will you? My trigger finger's getting itchy."

He heard the slight rustle of fabric as the younger clone leaped up, aimed, and lobbed the det before letting off another round of fire to keep the stormtroopers' attention on him rather than the incoming ordnance. There was nothing but the scream of blaster fire for a moment while Tully counted in his head, then suddenly reached beside him and grabbed at the kid's forearm, pulling him down. Both clones ducked and covered their heads as the explosion rocked the area, peppering them with fragments of duracrete and glass, and Tully tried not to miss the protective shell of his old armor.

When the rainfall of debris let up and he could smell smoke, he nudged the other clone's shoulder. "How's it look?"

Another pause as the younger clone scanned the area, then he replied. "Quiet. Big pile of rubble where the stormies used to...wait." He tensed beside Tully, who strained to listen. "Kriff...only one of them got buried. The others ducked away." There was frustration in his voice.

But Tully had been prepared for that potential outcome, although it was not as he'd hoped, and was already getting to his feet. "Sonic repercussions from that blast will still be disorienting them at such a close range, even with dampers in their helmets. Now's still our best chance."

"Right." The younger clone's voice was a bit nervy, but Tully could hear determination as well. "Want me to guide you?"

"You remember the secret codes on Kamino? Or did the long-necks put a stop to that by the time you crawled out of your growth-jar?"

A spark of laughter erupted from the younger clone at these words. "Do you mean _dadita_?"

It was pleasant to know that the old, low-tech Mando code had still been used even after Tully's time on Kamino; many illicit conversations had passed between Tully and his squad-mates using the series of staccato rhythms that denoted letters and numbers. Of course the long-necks had thought the clones were just being frivolous Humans, and had never thought to investigate the true nature of the noises.

Tully grinned and flexed his knees, then extended his elbow to the younger clone. "_Dadita_, all the way. Just tug at my jacket instead of tapping the floor."

"Right." He felt the kid – _Drake_ – grab at his elbow; moments later they were leaping in tandem over the protective cover of the fallen duracrete arch and were running across the street. There was series of quick tugs on the corner of his sleeve and he understood at once, lifting his twin blasters and starting to fire at ten o'clock. Beside him he heard the younger clone firing as well, the sound mingling with the clatter of their boots against the rubble.

Judging from the distance they ran it was a large street, and in the back of his mind Tully was impressed that Drake had managed to throw the det so far, and that he had not even hesitated over that aspect of the plan. Another few pulls at his jacket; Tully switched up his aim by a fraction of an inch and let loose another volley. The result this time was a shout of pain followed by a satisfying clatter as the stormtrooper fell to the ground.

Despite the fact that Tully couldn't see his targets, the younger clone's directions were accurate; within moments the area was silent save for their labored breathing and a final, soft scuffle from their enemies. When Drake released his elbow, Tully knew it was safe, but he tensed at the sound of a single blaster-bolt, then the scuffling stopped. "Had to finish the job?" he asked.

There was a click of a weapon being slid into a holster, then a quiet: "Yeah." After another pause, the other clone cleared his throat. "Can't get anyone over the comm. I think we should try and find the others."

It was quiet, almost eerily so, but Tully pushed the apprehension away and focused on the moment. "We should make sure that we have an evac method at hand. If anyone needs anything right now, it's probably a way off of this rock. Come on," he added, holstering the less-charged of his blasters and nodding forward. "We can get to their ship...maybe we can hitch a ride back to the _Dance._"

Drake set off at a jog and Tully followed moments later; the air was strangely quiet after so much sound. Acrid smoke, thick with ozone and burned plastoid, filled his nostrils even through the mild filter of the breathing mask. Apparently the Imperials had left their ship only a few hundred yards away so the clones reached it within moments. Here, Tully paused, trying not to let his uncertainty become evident in his voice. "You check out the ship. I'll hang around outside."

He very nearly said "to keep an eye out," but bit the words back, because they were about as useless as his eyes were; it wasn't like Tully was so hot on guard duty, with the whole "can't see a kriffing thing" aspect of his person.

However, the younger clone seemed to hesitate before he replied. "I think we're covered for now...besides, I might need your help with the ship."

It was an okay compromise. Not ideal, but that was the nature of compromises, wasn't it? His fingers tightened around the grip of his blaster and he wished – completely irrationally and just for one moment – that he could _see._

Naturally, accompanying the bout of self-pity came a memory of his Jedi.

_One time, not long after they'd started working together, Tully had asked Rand how he could get by without sight. "Being blind isn't so bad," the Miralukan had replied in an amused voice. "Besides, it's not as if I know an alternative. And I do have other...talents." _

_At this, Rand had lifted his brows and given a wry grin that made the clone laugh, though he'd fallen silent after a moment. Finally he'd spoken again. "I have the Force, but I've heard that other beings – non-Force-sensitives – who lose their sight gain an even greater sense of hearing, smell, and touch. When a door is closed...a window opens, you see. Balance is always found, one way or another."_

_One way or another. _Was it so simple? Tully supposed it was, as he'd managed to get by in the last six months. With an irritated grunt, he shook the memory away, and cleared his throat as Drake clambered into the ship ahead of him; he followed a moment later, wrinkling his nose at the scent of recycled air that felt foreign somehow.

There were footsteps straight ahead; by the sounds of it, his companion was at the helm, so Tully followed the sound. "So can we fly it?"

"Not looking that way," Drake replied. "Encryption's too heavy." He smacked his fist against the console as if it would help, but something only whirred angrily back at him. "Levy could manage to decrypt it, I think. Not me, though."

There was silence for a moment while they considered their options. In the back of his mind, the countdown that Tully was keeping of Jo's absence was growing urgent, though he tamped the feeling down. The younger clone had resumed entering information into the ship's system again, though he was met with the same result. Finally Tully spoke again.

"What kind of ship is it?"

"_Theta_-class shuttle," Drake replied, a frown in his voice. "Not sure exactly what model. I could fly it, if that's what you're getting at."

Ignoring the second remark, Tully indicated the direction they'd come. "Is it large enough to house a speeder, you think?"

Tully could hear the grin in the younger man's voice and practically see the kid's eyes light up within his own mind. "Let's take a look...erm...go check."

There was a squeak of the chair and footsteps that approached and then passed him; soon they had wound their way through the rear of the ship to what Tully imagined was the cargo bay, based on the stack of crates he slammed his knee into the moment they entered. The younger clone was nonplussed, by the sound of it. "Oh, kriff...I'm sorry...I should have-"

"Don't worry about me," Tully replied with a scowl. "But I don't want to bang into anything else...see a speeder?" A chuckle, the tone of which gave the former ARC the impression that the younger clone had a broad grin on his face. "Good news?"

There was a long, low whistle, and then he heard the shifting and creak of metal, as if Drake had mounted the vehicle. "I'll say. Three paces forward, no obstructions...and I think we just scored a new ride."

Minutes later, they were skimming across Humbarine on the speeder-bike, Tully seated behind Drake and gripping the passenger handles as the younger clone sent the vehicle careening over the ground. After a particularly violent swerve, Tully shouted in his companion's ear. "I know we're short on time, kid, but is there any reason that you're driving like a Lepi being chased by a Togruta?"

"For the last time...my name is _Drake_."

Tully sighed, the noise thankfully lost amid the roar of the bike's engines. It was pretty nice, actually: smooth ride, lovely purring engine, and fast as all get-out. Certainly, this vehicle was preferable to the kriffing fluff-whuffs or whatever those crinking Taloraan birds were called. He could picture the ground rushing past them in long, slender streaks. "Fine, _Drake_...just don't kill us off before we reach the _Spiral Dance._"

* * *

While she fought, she was not Johari Senna. She was not an Antarian Ranger, nor a woman trying to recover the lost fragments of her memory. She was not afraid, not tired, not thinking of the next step, the next movement, the next breath.

She was air. She was light.

She was Echani.

Of its own volition, her body moved in the concentric circles, the delineations of Echani fighting forms called _karanas_, against the man in dark armor.

_Kohia_: it was the core, the center of strength that allowed Johari to keep her balance no matter the direction of her arms and legs, no matter the blows that her opponent attempted to level at her foundation. Her movements began from her chest and torso, never straying farther than was absolutely necessary, never wasting a motion. There were elements of _jorma _in her form, necessitated by the ferocity and flexibility of the dark-armored man, but her core was always _kohia. _

Johari had her center and would not be moved from it, especially since Levy was at her feet, struggling to get out of the way even as she stood before him against the onslaught.

Her opponent was an Imperial Shadow Guard; she had determined that much by his armor and his proficiency with Echani fighting style, though he lacked all subtlety as his arms and elbows reached wildly into the realm of _tandu. _He whirled his saber-staff above his head as he slipped out of her way and lunged for Levy.

From where she stood, Jo realized that her blades would not pierce his the bulk of armor, so she slid them into their sheaths and swept her own feet behind her in one motion, knocking the young clone out of the way even as she angled her head down and pushed forward with her shoulders in a streamlined movement that would have been impossible for anyone who had not spent their entire life in the study of combat arts.

_Ysan_: the use of one's skull against their opponent. It was rarely practiced among armored foes, as it could result in critical damage to the warrior performing the move, but she was not aiming for her opponent's armor.

Not entirely.

The molded hood that covered the Shadow Guard's face was the only part of him that was decorative and it was there that she aimed, throwing all of her momentum from her leg – swinging back around after Levy was safely out of harm – and body both into the attack. She did not let doubt enter her mind because it would weaken her determination. There was a satisfying cracking sound, and the Guard fell backward, reeling. Jo righted herself, ducked to grab her blades once more, then leaped for him again.

A single fracture had split his hood nearly in half but he recovered and raised his staff to her, the blade humming. At the last minute, the Echani woman dropped her stance and slid between his spread legs, sending the blades of song-steel towards the backs of his knees, where the armor was slotted to allow greater freedom of movement. The steel struck true, but the Shadow Guard was fast and managed to avoid the worst of her attack.

Now they were in the thick of the field, tramping the flowers that she and Atreus had planted, and Jo felt anger coiling within her at the sight of the crushed _kina _blossoms beneath the Shadow Guard's boots. As if sensing her emotion, her opponent swept his staff up and around his head, slicing a neat row of flowers around him as he did so.

And then his staff was ripped from his hand by a single blue shot, which allowed Johari to land a blow with her left foot at the fissure in his hood. The Shadow Guard was knocked back, more white petals erupting from behind him as he fell to the ground, and it was then that she heard the familiar whine of the _Dance_'s engines.

The noise was undercut by Tully's voice, incongruously casual. "Need a lift, _vod_?"

Suddenly the _Spiral Dance _was beside her, ramp lowered. Tully had just pulled up Levy and was reaching down for her; she glanced once at the fallen Shadow, a dark patch amidst the white flowers, then reached for her brother's hand, and clambered aboard her ship.

"Thanks, Tully," she said once she felt the _Dance_ move away from the scene of the fight.

He gave a curt nod, then thumbed in the direction of the helm. "Buckle in. I hope you found what you were looking for, 'cause we're gonna go pick up the Padawan, then get the hell off of this rock."

They all made to secure themselves; Drake was up front at the helm, Tully at his heels. Levy, however, had taken one of the fold-out seats against the bulkhead in the gunwell, blaster in his lap. Upon seeing her enter the space, he sat up and made a few, halted gestures with his hands, wincing at the pain in his shoulder where the Shadow Guard had struck him.

_Are you okay?_

She didn't really know, so she only nodded and moved to sit beside him. "I'm fine. But you're hurt..."

His face flamed and he shook his head. _Not really. Well, a little. I'm not a great fighter...not like you are, anyway._ There was a trembling in his hands as he formed the words, but she only smiled.

"I can show you a few _karanas_, if we ever have time." The _Dance _was moving rapidly, and she knew she should be standing at the helm, with Drake and Tully as they searched for Zara, but she found that for a moment it was enough to sit and simply exist. The memories she'd regained would haunt her that night, she figured, but for now...Johari let out a breath and leaned her head back against the bulkhead and shut her eyes.

A soft noise made her glance at the clone beside her, her mouth falling open a moment later when he reached into his coat and pulled out a crumpled _kina _flower, made so by the fact that it had been in his pocket. He held it out to her and she accepted, her eyes feeling hot and prickly at the sight.

Levy lifted his hands again. _I tried to get a picture, but didn't have time. This was the best I could do. _Even the movement of his fingers was uncertain, as if he wasn't sure he'd done the right thing.

Johari fingered the petals, noting their softness, and blinked several times before looking at him once more; after a moment she raised her own hands and carefully made the gesture she had learned meant _thank you._

* * *

After what must have been the umpteenth unsuccessful attempt to comm Zara while they circled the _Spiral Dance_ around the ravaged city, Drake twisted in his seat and shouted for Levy to get his _shebs _up to the helm. Moments later his brother slid past Tully and into the nav chair, but Drake looked at him before he had a chance to flip through the scanners.

"Can you call Zar?" His own voice was hoarse, and his fingers were clamped around the steering column with enough force to cause his muscles to cramp.

Immediately, Levy's gaze grew distant, a slight frown coming over his face; Johari had entered the cockpit as well and for a moment the entire group watched the young clone as he concentrated. Finally Levy's eyes snapped open and he pointed. Drake urged the ship forward, causing everyone to have to catch hold of something for balance.

There was a cuff against the back of his head as Tully spoke. "Take it easy, Drake. _Udesii._"

Even the familiar Mando'a did nothing for Drake's nerves, but he was able to unclench his fingers a bit as they approached. Levy had punched in some coordinates, based on the layout of the city and influenced by his own estimation, and they were soon flying low and slow, searching. Suddenly, Levy sat up and lifted his hands.

_She says she can see us. I'll take the helm if you want to..._

Drake was out of his seat in an instant, pushing past Tully and the Ranger to make his way to the hatch, which he activated. As it opened, he stuck his head out, blinking from the biting wind and peering around the area; it was a water-treatment facility of some kind, gray and utilitarian, laced with networks of pipes and conduits.

"Here!"

Something in his heart released a little when he caught sight of her form, kneeling over the slender, black-armored girl whom she'd defeated, and he was suddenly filled with pride for what she had done, along with a heady kind of awe.

The ramp was completely extended; Levy angled the ship above Zara's position and Drake climbed out on bent knees, half walking, half crawling to keep his balance as the vessel seemed to shudder with the effort of trying to hold still. Only about two meters away, Zara stood up and looked from him to the girl at her feet, who was motionless, though he could see she was breathing.

"Zar...come on," he shouted through the whine of ship's engines and the screaming wind. He thought that Jo was behind him, waiting to see if he needed help.

Below him, Zara hesitated. He could read the deliberation in her face and wondered what was wrong, if she were injured or something, and he couldn't tell from this perspective. Again, he called her name, and she blinked once, as if broken from some trance before she bent her knees slightly and jumped. She didn't need to grab his hand, not really, especially when she had the Force, but he thought that she was glad for the press of his fingers against hers, even though both of them were wearing gloves.

Not nearly soon enough his arms were around her and someone – Jo, he presumed – had activated the hatch to shut, and for a moment they knelt before one another as the ship lifted higher into the atmosphere, the last view of Humbarine disappearing below them when the hatch closed.

Then Drake could do nothing but embrace her. In the back of his mind he noted that her breathing mask was gone and she was soaking wet and shivering, but all he cared about was that she was in his arms, so he brushed her tears aside with his thumbs and kissed her as hard as he could.

* * *

_Whew! What a ride! :P _

_Johari's _karanas_, are not canonical; I wanted a very specific set of movements to define the Echani fighting style, so I came up with the _karanas: kohia, jorma, tandu _and_ yshan._ They come into play later on. _

_So, we're off again! Please let me know what you think so far. :)_

_Thanks for reading! _


	17. Too Good To Be True

Song: "40 Day Dream," by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, from the album _Up From Below._

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Too Good To Be True**

_Well, I've been sleeping for forty days,_

_And I know I'm sleeping, 'cause this dream's too amazing._

_She's got gold doorknobs where her eyes used to be, yeah._

_One turn and I learned what it really means to see._

It was not until the _Spiral Dance _broke into hyperspace that Levy found he was truly able to relax. Even though his shoulder still burned from the touch of the armored man's saber-staff there was no time to breathe until the ship was safely away from Humbarine, making a heading towards Glee Anselm at Johari's behest. Due to the nature of Imperial patrols, he'd adjusted their course to take them through less monitored systems, though the young clone was thankful for the _Dance_'s advanced shields and modified transponder codes that would help keep them under the figurative - and literal - radar.

"How's the arm?" Johari's soft voice made him turn to her in the nav seat; she was covered with sweat and filth, just as he was, but her silver eyes were upon him and nothing but concerned. Stray bits of pale hair were floating free of her braid, not quite framing the side of her face, which was tinted with blue from the streak of stars. She was still holding the _kina _flower.

Blinking, Levy shrugged as casually as he could, his equivalent of "fine," and tugged at the sleeve of his jacket to ensure that his scars were not visible. The nanos crawled beneath his skin, but he tried to ignore them as the product of his imagination, perhaps because he was tired. Behind him, he could hear Tully shifting in place; Zara and Drake had not yet emerged from the hatch area beneath the gunwell.

The young Echani woman studied him a moment longer, then peered at the console, tilting her chin down as she studied the navacomputer. "The autopilot's on," she said, rising to her feet. "We should be okay for a few hours. You need that shoulder tended to, Levy."

A strange shiver passed through him when she said his name but he shook the feeling off as he considered protesting; however, his shoulder _did _hurt, was actually starting to sting pretty bad, come to think of it, so he nodded and rose to follow her.

At her words, Tully had gone ahead of them, and his voice reverberated through the ship's bulkheads.

"Break it up, you two. This is no time for sucking face – and before either of you ask me how I knew what you were doing, let me just say that you're making enough noise to rouse a Dagobah boulder-slug from hibernation. Those critters are deafer than I'm blind."

Levy tried to bite back his chuckle as he caught sight of Zara and Drake getting to their feet, both of their faces dark with embarrassment. Johari waved them along and soon everyone was ensconced in the ship's lounge.

The space wasn't particularly large, but like most other areas of the _Dance_, Jo had taken strides to make it comfortable. A rectangular table folded out from the wall perpendicular to the doorway, and there were an assortment of raised pallets that could be slid to either side to create a place for dining. When not used in that capacity, the seating pallets were affixed to the walls around the room; topped with thick cushions that lifted up to provide storage, the pallets could double in a pinch as beds, though they weren't as comfortable as the actual bunks in the crew cabins.

While everyone took a seat, Tully meandered to the small conservator – built into the bulkhead, with a small faucet and sink beside it, above the compactor – and pulled out several dark bottles, passing them out. Levy opened his and took a drink without bothering to check the label, and instantly began sputtering at the bitter taste of the ale within. The former ARC only swigged his own drink and chuckled to himself, while Drake and Zara exchanged glances before the clone collected the bottles and set them back in the conservator, pulling out some water instead.

"Zara...Levy's hurt," Jo said, nodding to Levy before she took a cross-legged seat on the bench opposite him. At the concern in her tone, he felt his ears get warm even as he gripped at the left sleeve of his jacket, hoping that she hadn't caught sight of his arm, then realizing that it wouldn't matter, as it'd have to come off anyway when Zara did her Jedi-thing.

The Padawan was at his side in an instant, tugging at the jacket Weave had lent him, which he noted with chagrin now sported a healthy-sized black charred mark at his left shoulder. As much as he wanted to keep his arm hidden, Levy knew better than to resist the efforts of a Healer, so he allowed Zara to slip him out of the coat and roll up his sleeve.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she grumbled as she placed her hands on his skin, the cooling sensation of Force-healing following a moment later.

_Had a few other things on my mind, _he replied to her, keeping his body still and silently thanking the Force that Jo was studying the flower in her hand again. _Like staying alive. _

Her reply was a chiding _hrmph. _In the next instant, he watched her eyes narrow as she took in his wound, even as it faded beneath her touch. _That looks like it was inflicted by a lightsaber._

_It was kind of a lightsaber-staff that was used by this guy in black armor who fought like..._

The thought trailed off and he glanced at Johari, who was now in discussion with his brother and Tully. "We've got enough fuel to reach Glee Anselm," Drake was saying to the Echani woman. "But I'm not really willing to use the more established routes to get there...especially if we've caught the attention of the Imperials."

Jo nodded, her hand going to her chin as she thought, the ale resting within the bend of her knee. "And it was a Shadow Guard who attacked myself and Levy. There's no doubt in my mind." She frowned and toyed with the mouth of the bottle. "Few beings besides Echani can fight in our style with such proficiency. The Emperor's Shadow Guards are among them."

At this, Zara looked up from Levy's shoulder, which was already feeling good as new. "Glee Anselm?"

"The _kina_ flowers...they're native to that world," Johari said, holding up the blossom that he'd given her, before tucking it behind her ear in an absent gesture. "They're used to enrich the soil, so crops can grow. I remember...we collected as many seeds as we could and brought them to Humbarine."

"Is there a specific place on Glee Anselm they're from?" Notes of anticipation trembled in Zara's voice.

The Echani woman gave her a faint smile. "They're used sporadically on the entire world – well, what land masses there are – but there is one location in particular they can be found in large quantities."

Zara took a breath and nodded, though she was otherwise silent.

"The...person you fought," Drake said, looking at the Nautolan girl after a moment. "Was she a Sith? She had red lightsabers..." All of the clones were familiar with the darksiders, as Kalinda, Honi and Master Altis had spent many long hours discussing the rise of the Sith Lord in the wake of the destruction of the Jedi Order.

Zara's hands dropped to her lap and her head shook, _lekku_ swaying. "No. She wasn't." Her voice was quiet and filled with pain, so Levy gave her arm a squeeze.

_Thanks for the patching up._

She gave him another faint smile but said nothing more, instead sitting back from him and continuing to look down at her folded hands.

Tully took a swig of his drink, kicking his feet up on the nearest bench. "So what was she, then? And how did you take her out?"

Johari spoke next, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "She was dressed in the manner of the Inquisitorius, Tully."

The elder clone's face darkened and his entire body grew very tense, as though he were coiled to spring. "An Inquisitor? She was an Inquisitor? You're sure?" Jo answered in the affirmative and he made a noise of anger in the back of his throat.

"Like I said before, she was...a friend," Zara said after a moment. "A fellow Padawan I knew back on Coruscant. I thought that she died in the Purge, but I guess not." She swallowed and rubbed at her arm; Levy watched Drake's face and could see that his brother wanted to come sit beside her, but something was stopping him.

After a moment he realized that it was probably himself, as there wasn't really room for three people on the little seat. Was it a sign of things to come? He was Zara's friend, and Drake's brother, but he figured that the balance between the three of them was about to shift now, since they'd kissed. But where would that leave him? In any case, he stood and replaced his jacket, trying to step to another seat as casually as he was able, even as Tully spoke again.

"Then you did the galaxy a favor by putting an end to her. I only wish that she suffered longer before she died."

Silence filled the gaps between them even as Levy and Drake exchanged places, though his brother made no move to touch the Padawan as he sat beside her. Zara's head lifted and her eyes on Tully were darker than normal. When she spoke, Levy could hear emotion in her voice, but it took him a moment to identify it as anger. "I didn't kill her."

The former ARC gave a snort of derision and tilted his bottle back before he answered. "You should have. She deserves to die for joining up with that miserable bunch of murdering _chakaare._"

"It's against everything I believe in, everything the Jedi stand for," Zara replied, her words trembling as she fought for control.

This made Tully lean forward, a scowl on his face. The trailing ends of his blindfold fell across his shoulders and shivered as he spoke. "Pretty ideals won't bring you a long life, Padawan. And as for what the Jedi 'stand for'..." He extended his left hand in a dismissive gesture. "Look how well that worked out for them."

"How can you say that?" Her _lekku _were darkening and her fists were clenching as if trying to hold herself together. "Is that what you really think? That the Jedi _deserved_ to be massacred? A lot of good, honorable people died after that war-"

But Tully was on his feet, tossing the empty bottle across the room towards the compactor where it missed, hitting the bulkhead and rolling to the floor with a clatter. "You think I'm not well aware of that little fact? You think I'm ignorant of the _millions_ of brothers who gave their lives up...for nothing? Not to mention-" His voice broke here, as if he'd choked on his own words, and his face seemed to close in on itself.

Zara's mouth opened but no sound came out. Beside her, Drake was looking between them, clearly uncomfortable. Finally he cleared his throat. "Take it easy, Tully. And trust me, Zara knows just as much about casualties of war as anyone here."

"What's done is done, anyway," Johari added, her quiet voice seeming to calm Tully just a little. "We're all on the same side. We must look forward if we're to survive."

"Fine," Tully said with a shrug, his voice still hoarse. He turned and made to exit the room. "I'm done for today, anyway." Without another word he slipped out of the room and headed off, presumably to his cabin.

There was silence for a moment while everyone looked at the floor, then Jo lifted her head. "Please don't take his anger personally," she said at last, folding her hands together and swallowing as she met Zara's eyes. After some deliberation, Levy had taken the seat across from the Echani, and watched as she seemed to carefully consider her next words. "Everything has changed so much in the last six months. It's been...difficult."

At some point, Drake had put his arm around Zara's waist; she leaned into him and he tilted his head against hers as he spoke. "It's okay. I know he's had a rough time of it."

Zara nodded. "He was married to your sister, right?" Something changed in her expression, and she sat up, away from Drake. "The Inquisitors killed her."

The anger had returned to her voice, and Levy watched as his friend's hands tightened around the air, as if she were grasping for a lightsaber that wasn't there.

The Echani woman nodded once. Shifting his attention from Zara, Levy marveled at how the silver-eyed young woman's features were schooled to absolute stillness, but he could still read her body language; the way her fingertips pressed against her knees, the tightness of her shoulders, the rapid blinking...they belied her feelings, revealed her to be stricken. For one wild moment he had and urge to put his hand on hers and let her know that it would be okay, but he immediately felt a stab of guilt, as it was clear she was grieving for her sister; he was sure the _last _thing she wanted – or needed – was someone like him to start chasing after her. He wasn't like Keo, after all, or Drake for that matter. Chatting up anyone was pretty much out of the question.

The wry thought was fleeting as he tried to ignore it, and lifted his hands to form his words. _We should be safe for now. Maybe everyone needs some rest._

Drake nodded, but then shot Zara an inquiring look. "How do you think she found us?"

"I'm not sure," Zara admitted. "I don't..." She trailed off, her face paling, and Drake put his other hand on her arm as he said her name once. Blinking, she sucked in a quick breath. "Psychometry. I'm such a fool...of course." She tugged back the sleeve of her jacket, revealing a slender blue wrist. "My tranquility bracelet. I lost it on Zygerria when we were attacked by the slavers. She must have found it, somehow."

Levy frowned and raised his hands. _Which means...?_

But it was Johari who answered. "We were taught about such things when I was training to become a Ranger; Jedi who are psychometric have an astonishing ability to sense certain...memories from inanimate objects, though with varying degrees of strength and clarity. Was your...friend particularly gifted in this area?"

"Corliss was incredible," Zara replied, a tinge of wistfulness in her voice. "Even Master Vos was impressed by her talents. It was the main reason she was allowed to remain in the Order; otherwise I think they wouldn't have let her stay."

"Why?" Drake asked.

The Padawan frowned in thought. "She was – is – very...passionate. Corliss is a Zeltron," she added, and Johari nodded slowly. "She would become wholly wrapped up in something or someone – usually her Master – and kind of...lose herself to them, a little. Her first Master, Feróz, saw how talented she was and worked hard to help her overcome her...'propensity for attachment.'" Her mouth quirked over the expression, then she gave a deep sigh and ducked her head, rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her palms.

"What happened to Master Feróz?" Johari asked in a soft voice, as if she knew the answer.

Zara shook her head. "Killed on Praesitlyn during the war. But she got a new Master...a Keshiri woman named Alatea Shaan." The Padawan sighed again and hugged her arms to her sides. "I guess she died, too, and Corliss got caught up with the Empire, somehow."

"If she's as skilled as you say, we have our work cut out for us," Drake replied. "Zar...you think she can track us, now? How does the psychometry-thing work, anyway? She can't see the future, can she?"

Levy noticed that Johari's head lifted at this, and she seemed intent on the other young woman's answer. After a moment, Zara gave a slow nod, causing the others to sit up. "Well," she amended. "She can't quite 'see' the future; she gets more like flickers. Images and thoughts, really. It's strange...she tried to explain it to me a few times, but I never really understood."

Her words were punctuated with a yawn, at which Drake nodded, taking a breath and speaking in an authoritative voice that reminded Levy of Stonewall. "You should rest, too, Zar. We all should. There's not a lot we can do right now. I imagine it'll take them some time to recover from the mods Tully and I made to their shuttle, anyway."

Everyone looked at the young clone, whose face broke into a cocky grin. "We didn't have time to blow it up or anything, but we did leave a nasty little surprise for the Imps in the hyperdrive."

There was a ripple of laughter from Johari and Zara, and Levy chuckled inwardly, shooting his brother an affectionate look and a thumbs-up gesture, to which the other clone replied with another grin.

* * *

"You really should get some rest, Levy," Johari said as she followed the clone to the _Dance's _helm a few minutes after their conversation in the lounge. "Your brother and Zara have already gone to their cabins."

He merely shrugged as he slid into the pilot's seat, checking over the controls, his face illumined by the blue glow of hyperspace. Finally he shot her a sardonic look, lifting his brow and quirking his lips as he raised his hands to 'speak.'

_I'll sleep in a bit, _he replied, turning the chair to face her. _Besides, you were the one who did all the work today, Johari. _He gave her a smile that was...shy, she realized. Admiring and a bit awed. When he formed her name, his fingers seemed almost hesitant, and she noted the tension in his arms.

It was her turn to shrug, and she settled in beside him at the nav. "It was...good in a way to fight like that," she admitted after a moment. At his look of incredulity she gave a small smile, and maneuvered her chair as well so that she was facing him. "Echani live and breathe by the _karanas_, the movements of fighting that also translate into how one should conduct their life. Though, the Shadow Guard fought without honor." The memory made her frown. "He attempted to use your injured state to get through my defenses."

Levy frowned as well and lifted his hands. _So I nearly got us both killed. Great._

"No," she said, leaning forward and putting a hand on his left forearm. Beneath her touch she felt his entire body tense, so she lifted her hand as she continued. "Levy, when he resorted to such a tactic – that was the moment that revealed his uncertainty at his own skills. It removed his prowess from the equation and let me see into his true heart. That was the moment I knew I would defeat him." She smiled again, a larger one, though it was a brief flash, before she leaned back in the seat and made her features smooth over.

The clone was silent for a moment, eyes on the console below him though she got the impression he wasn't really looking at the sensor readout. Surreptitiously, she studied his features, nothing the subtle differences between him and Tully, the only other clone – aside from Drake – she'd been in such close contact with with.

While he shared Tully's muscular form and broad shoulders, Levy's face was unblemished, and she recalled hearing about how his family had come across the cure for the clone's rapid aging; however, while Zara had healed him in the lounge, she had noted a series of raking, mottled scars that covered the skin of his left arm. She wondered how he had gotten them, but she recalled the way that he had tensed when her hand had touched him only moments ago, which alerted her to the fact that he likely wouldn't want to discuss it even if she were to ask.

Finally he sighed and glanced over at her. _Thanks for saving my life, Johari. I hope I can return the favor._ After beat he frowned, and his hands lifted again. _Not that I want you to be in danger, but..._

"Don't worry about it," she replied. "I imagine we'll more trouble before this adventure is over. It's strange," she added, folding her hands in her lap. "I remembered nearly everything about Humbarine, once we were there. It took Atreus and myself days to clear out the debris in that field enough to plant the seeds that we brought from Glee Anselm. I don't think he slept the entire time. It was like he was trying to...make up for something. It wasn't until later on that I learned the full story of when he and Tully had visited the planet during the Wars."

Something tightened in her throat, and she took a breath. In his fashion, Levy only watched her and waited, seeming to listen to every word.

But she wasn't speaking to him, anymore.

"Atreus felt that the Clone Wars had turned the Jedi Order inside-out. He had visions, you know, insights into the future. It wasn't uncommon for Miraluka, but his visions were...intense. They were often nonsensical at the time, though later on he'd get a flash of understanding for some of them. When we met him..."

She paused, and hugged her arms to her chest before she continued. "About a year into the Wars, when Mira and I were assigned to work with him and Tully, he had a vision almost the moment after we met; it wasn't a particularly intense one, I know now, but at the time...at the time I thought he was dying."

Her eyes closed as an image of Atreus, writhing on the dirt of Klatooine at her feet, came to her mind's eye. At first it had been terrifying to see a Jedi Knight loose complete control of his faculties. But Tully had simply knelt down beside the Miralukan man, gently holding his head to the side and trying to keep him as still as possible for the duration of the "vision."

"_It's okay," the ARC said to the Echani Ranger and her sister – still an apprentice at the time – both of whom were gaping at the sight. "He gets like this sometimes. It's not pretty, but I guess you'll just have to get used to it. Or you can leave." Despite the gruff tone of his words, his touch against the Jedi was practiced, as if he'd done this many times._

_It astounded her, the way that the clone handled his Jedi general's incapacity; Tully didn't seem to be fazed at all. Atreus managed to choke out a few words at random – none of which made any sense – and she exchanged looks with Miriam, who had actually taken a single step back in shock. Finally, when the seizure ended, Atreus lay for a few moments as if in a daze, until Tully spoke to him. _

"_Well, Rand, you put on quite a show for our new friends, didn't you?"_

_Johari didn't know much about the GAR, but she figured it was bad form to speak to one's commanding officer in that overly casual, borderline disrespectful way. However, as he struggled to his feet, the dark-haired Miralukan man only brushed off his tunic and gave Jo a wry smile that immediately struck her heart. "Tully's right: there goes my shot at a good first impression. Perhaps we should try the whole thing again, this time without my writhing on the ground?"_

_Tully snorted and waved a casual hand in the direction of the Echani women. "Save the jokes for later, will you? I managed to record what I could into my HUD...but it wasn't much. See anything interesting?"_

_The Miralukan man's face clouded, and he nodded slowly. "I'm afraid so. The Council won't be pleased."_

"_They rarely are," Tully replied, shaking his head. _

It hadn't been anything they'd understood at the time, but she'd later learned that the information garnered from the vision had saved the life of a very prominent senator.

The movement of Levy's hands pulled her out of the reverie, and she watched his motions carefully to discern the words. _I've never known anyone, Jedi or not, who could 'see' the future with that kind of clarity._

"Atreus tried to explain it to me," she said, lacing her fingers together in her lap. "He got...impressions. Saw images, words, faces, heard sounds. Often it was confusing for him, as he didn't have eyesight like we think of it, and as far as I know he never received a vision of his own future, or anyone close to him."

_I guess that's a good thing, _Levy replied. _I don't think that's something I'd want to know._

"Me either," she said in a soft voice, remembering the way that Atreus had smiled at her that first time. As embarrassing as it must have been for him, as harrowing as she later learned his visions were, he always had a smile for those he was close to. Some hidden fragment of her mind struggled to the light, but it was no use. She now knew that they'd been lovers. Friends, too, she supposed. But were they ever more than that? Of course she remembered how she felt about him, as that had started almost the moment they'd met and only strengthened during the years they spent working together.

But had he ever returned the sentiment?

The holes in her memory were slowly starting to be filled, but there were still walls that she couldn't see around, still pieces of the overall picture that she was unable to make out.

So she glanced at Levy again, though she did not smile. "If Zara's former friend can get inklings of the future – even a little..." She shivered. "We're in trouble."

* * *

Zara wasn't sure if she kept her pace slow on purpose, or because she still felt tired from her fight with Corliss, but either way, her steps towards her cabin were halting. Drake remained at her side, and for several minutes after they left the lounge they said nothing to one another, because even the smallest noises seemed to echo around them in the ship's passage.

Finally Drake spoke, and by the tone of his voice, Zara could tell he was agitated, though his words were careful. "I'm sorry about your former friend."

The Nautolan shook her head, her arms at her sides. "Yeah. Me too...but..." She paused, her brow furrowing. "I don't know if 'former friend' is the right term."

"Zar, if she's joined the Inquisitors..."

"I know, but...you didn't see her back on Humbarine. She wasn't all bad...she was scared and angry, yes, but she was still _Corliss. _She was still my friend – even if it was just for a minute." Her eyes lifted and met his, and she noted the skepticism within them even while they were warm upon her. "She's trapped in the Dark Side, for now, but I think there's still good in her."

Drake seemed to consider her words, though she got the impression that it was only to humor her. Finally he shrugged. "I didn't know her like you did, Zara, but I saw the way she came for you, like the only thing she could think of was..." He cut the words off with a scowl and reached for her hand as if to reassure himself that she was still there. After she squeezed his hand, he sighed and his face smoothed into an expression of sorrow.

"It wasn't the way of someone who still has 'good' inside of them, no matter how much you might want to see it." He sighed again and gave a smile, almost to himself, adding: "Your heart is too big, Zar, but it's one of the things I love about you."

Even as the words left his mouth she could see that he had meant them, but that he'd not planned on saying them at this exact moment, especially if the furious blush on his face was any indication. But still, she welcomed the distraction from her own, unpleasant thoughts. "Drake..."

Wincing, he shook his head and stepped away from her, towards the cabin he shared with Levy. "I know...you're worried about your friend and the Holocron, and I'm worried about the guys. And we're both tired...just ignore me, okay? I'm just going to go to my room, now."

The _Spiral Dance_ had originally been outfitted with two cargo bays, on either side of the large engine compartment in the center of the ship, but one of the bays had been converted to several small cabins, so that only the younger clones had to share a room. But although she was exhausted and in need of a shower, Zara found that she didn't want to be alone.

No, she realized as she looked at Drake. The feeling was beyond a simple need for companionship. She wanted to be _with him._ The idea made her cheeks grow warm, but then she thought of the way he'd kissed her as they left Humbarine, and remembered the strength of his embrace, so she tried to think of the most tactful way to phrase her thoughts.

Naturally, the words came out completely wrong. "I need to take a shower but I want you with me."

His face flamed and he stopped in his tracks, gaping at her. "What...?"

She shook her head, too quickly, sending her _lekku _from side to side in an ungraceful manner. "No...not _in _the shower, Drake. But...just..."

A sigh escaped her and she suddenly embraced his torso and rested her head on his chest. Something Honi had said to her once, long ago, came to her mind: _Sometimes, in moments of great hardship, it is better to turn to someone for a bit of comfort_.

But it was more than that,she knew; as she listened to his heartbeat, which had started to pick up, certainty coalesced within her mind. As far as Drake was concerned, her desire to be close to him had always been more than just a need for , she thought of the way he'd kissed her, this time on Taloraan, and before that on Mundali, all those years ago when they were so much younger. His touch...it had always been _right_, even when neither of them knew what was happening. "Just be here. With me. Can you do that?"

Arms encircled her back, reaching beneath her _lekku_ and pressing her close to him. "I think I can manage. But..." He sniffed at her head. "You smell pretty bad, Zar. Like...well, a gentleman probably shouldn't say it." As she pulled back to glare at him he gave her a cocky smile, though his face was flushing even harder than it had a moment ago, as if even he was startled at his own boldness. "Just kidding."

When he smiled at her, she forgot everything else, which was – at that moment – a blessing. Zara reached up and pulled his face to hers, making a sound of amusement that turned to one of pleasure when his embrace tightened and he returned the kiss with enthusiasm. They were lost to each other for several moments until she pulled away and glanced at her cabin door. "Come on," she said, taking his hand.

"Zara...?" In his voice, her name was a question. He paused at the threshold and looked at her; though his expression was careful she could read his uncertainty and hesitation in the Force, along with a heady arousal that matched her own. "We only just started...whatever it is we're doing."

"Just started?" She shook her head, the motion easier this time. Something had relaxed a little inside of her heart, releasing what felt like dozens of small, fluttering creatures within her chest. She stepped through the doorway and he followed, gripping her hand. "Maybe for you...but for me it's been a long, long time coming. Too long, I think."

Right before he kissed her again, he shook his head as if in wonder, though he had a broad grin plastered on his face. "You have no idea, Zar."

The door closed behind them.

* * *

_Yay! :D_

_Okay, I have no idea if anyone has been listening to the music, but seriously...this song is amazing. Really, really amazing! I highly encourage you to give it a shot! :D_

_There's a bit of news on my profile as well. ;)_


	18. The Light That Burns

Song: "The Space Between," by Zero 7, from the album, _When It Falls._

_Heads up: bit of time-jumping in this chapter. _

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: The Light That Burns**

_Now that I've seen you, _

_Stripped to the very core,_

_I know that I need you,_

_Less than I did, before._

_Approximately five years earlier, in the Room of a Thousand Fountains..._

"All I want is to be a Jedi."

As Corliss rested her head against Zara's shoulder, a series of images flickered within her mind: a blue saber, not the one that her friend wore at her hip, but a different make; a flash of copper hair and red dust; frightened whispers echoing in a dark room; an overwhelming sense of loss and grief.

As if she could somehow shutter them out, Corliss swallowed and closed her eyes, but the onslaught of sensations did not stop. Rather, they culminated in the realization that Zara would know great pain and sorrow_, _andthe Zeltron girl frowned as she felt her friend sigh beneath her, heedless of what the Force was revealing.

However, another trickle of feelings came to Corliss after a moment: wonder, happiness, love. Someone was laughing; she could see water gleaming in the sunlight and hear the clash of lightsabers. The flash of insight was brief, but Corliss thought that it meant that Zara would know joy as well. It was gladdening, because her friend deserved such a thing. But rather than say all of this, Corliss only lifted her head and glanced at the blue-skinned girl beside her. "You'll be assigned, soon. I can tell."

"How?" Zara's voice was curious, as it was when Corliss made her proclamations.

"The Force shows me," Corliss replied, sitting up and trying to ignore the flutter of fear within her heart that always accompanied her fragmented glimpses into the future. Sometimes it felt that nothing worked for her as it should, or as she wanted it, at least. Her time with Elegan had fallen flat of her hopes, and she hadn't even seen Master Feróz' death, had she? "When I touch you...I can see the path that will find you."

With a frown, Zara looked down at the pond in which her legs were immersed, and moved her feet absently. "I'm not sure I'd want to know the future."

"It's not quite the _future_. I don't have the Sight, like some Jedi do. It's just what's...surrounding you," Corliss said, shaking her head. "I can sense things about people from the items they've touched, right? Things about their past and their present...and things that may happen to them, or because of them. It's hard to define, exactly."

She blew out a breath in frustration, as if trying to push away her feelings of not being good enough. "Why can't you just be psychometric, too? It'd be much easier than trying to explain all of this."

"Okay," Zara replied with a smile. "I'll trade Healing if you'll give me psychometry – we can compare notes, after." On a whim, she stuck out her hand. Her expression was earnest, and in that moment Corliss had no doubt that Zara would have gladly swapped their talents had they been able.

So Corliss gave a light chuckle and stuck hers out as well, and they shook on it.

* * *

_Present day, back on Humbarine..._

The memory faded away as quickly as it had come. When Corliss opened her eyes again, Zara was kneeling beside her, soaking wet, shivering, and pressing her hands to Corliss' cheeks, saying her name again and again; the touch sent a stream of images to the Zeltron's mind that she was too disoriented to examine at the moment. Despite the fact that she was chilled, her throat burned and she realized that she'd just expelled an embarrassing amount of water from her lungs. When she swallowed, she tasted bile and ash.

"Corliss...can you breathe okay? Are you hurt?" There was concern in Zara's voice, as if they had not been fighting in earnest only minutes ago, as if none of the things Corliss had said to her mattered, as if...

As if they were still friends.

Corliss felt her eyelids close in a long blink, as if to clear her eyes, as she shook her head in bewilderment. After all that had happened, she had no idea how or why Zara would cling to such a ridiculous notion. For a moment she considered brushing off Zara's question, as she didn't really have an answer, or even feel that she owed the other young woman a reply, but then decided that it didn't matter. She was too tired to care, anyway. Corliss nodded and took a breath. "I'm...I'm fine, Zar."

Her nickname for the Nautolan girl came out on its own, and startled her, so much so that she glanced at her unlikely rescuer and added a quiet: "Thanks."

Why did she say _that_, of all things? What was wrong with her?Something burbled in Corliss' gut and she felt her lungs burning once more, so she turned away and began heaving. Finally the spasms ended and she couldn't help the groan that came out of her throat as she hunched over, pressing her hand against her head as if to soothe the throbbing ache. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Zara sitting back on her heels, watching her in silence.

Deciding that she wanted some answers, Corliss took a shuddering breath and glanced over at the Padawan. "Why did you save me?"

Zara gave a puzzled frown and shook her head, _lekku _swaying. "I didn't want you to die, Lissy."

Corliss bristled at the nickname, but was too spent from her exertions to comment further. Her legs were leaden, her entire body felt wrung and faded, and she had a fierce headache; she lifted her hand to her forehead again and winced. The other young woman moved like she was going to approach again, but Corliss stilled her with a glare. However, before she could say anything, the whine of a ship began to drone in the distance, and before they knew it, a vessel was hovering in the air above them. Someone shouted Zara's name, and the Nautolan girl looked up at the ship, where a figure had emerged from an open hatch.

Then she looked back at Corliss, her dark eyes filled with sorrow.

But the Inquisitor acolyte held no place in her heart for pity, and she scowled at her former friend. "Next time I see you, Zara," she said, modulating her words to just barely reach Zara's ears. "You _won't_ be the one walking away."

Zara made no reply, just gathered the Force to her and leaped for the ramp; moments later the ship Corliss had been tracking disappeared into the sky.

It was nearing nighttime on Humbarine. Save the rush of water,everything was still and cold and quiet. Corliss was alone.

After she collected herself a bit more, she sat upright and scanned the surrounding culvert for her sabers, which she must have dropped once she'd fallen into the churning water. A few minutes later she had clambered out off of the ramp to walk along the edge of the culvert as she began the search in earnest. Part of her knew that it was probably a futile search, but she didn't want to have to explain to Tremayne that she'd lost her sabers _and _her chance to capture the Padawan – for now.

The images she'd gotten when Zara had touched her...they were strange, jumbled. Her own face was among them, bathed in a glowing blue light. She'd seen the face of a clone, a younger clone, and felt a thrill of strong emotion attached to him. A woman with white hair and silver eyes – an Echani, she realized, the Antarian Ranger – smiled at Zara and said the words: _And I know that you have little reason to trust that what I say is true, but I swear to you by my ancestors, I have been given this task, and I cannot complete it without your help._

But those things were inconsequential, really. They were minor pieces of Zara Karell's life that Corliss had little interest in at the moment.

However, there was one tidbit of information that she'd pulled from the stream of mental detritus. It was a planet, almost silvery-blue against the backdrop of space, mottled with flecks of sea-green and copper landmasses. A name had echoed within Zara's mind, even if she hadn't yet been aware of it, and Corliss _knew _where the almost-Nautolan would journey, next.

It was fitting for Zara to return to Glee Anselm, to the planet of her birth.

Corliss was pulled from her musing when she noticed a glint at the edge of the rushing water; she reached down with the Force, but frowned when she realized it was only a shard of mirrored-glass that had caught the last of the light just so.

About half an hour later, darkness had fallen in earnest on Humbarine, so she had to feel her way along with caution. The going was also made slow because she'd lost her breather and the thin air was reluctant to be inhaled, which made even the simple task of walking feel cumbersome. A breeze blew and Corliss trembled; her armor felt awkward and her bodysuit was starting to pinch her as it dried and parts of it tightened uncomfortably against her skin.

And there was no sign of her lightsabers.

_I didn't want you to die, Lissy._

Corliss felt something burning behind her eyes and frowned, reaching up to smooth at her tangled hair and remind herself of what was real. _She_ was real. Her anger was real, as was her love for Antinnis. He – Antinnis Tremayne, her loving master – was real as well, and waiting for her return.

The Jedi were gone. Shadows and shades, all. Crushed and scattered like broken glass.

_Peace is a lie. _

_There is only passion. _

Corliss stood at the edge of the aqueduct and looked, though her gaze was unfocused in thought. Although they were all strong with the Dark Side, neither Tremayne nor the Inquisitors were Sith. Even so, the Sith axiom comforted Corliss, as they confirmed what she felt she'd always known. Her passion was unquenchable, and it brought her strength. The Jedi had been too blind to see what Tremayne had found within her at a single glance. And for that she owed him everything.

He would _not _be pleased that she'd allowed the Padawan to get away, nor that she'd lost her sabers. Frowning, Corliss debated what to do next, but as she did, she felt a new presence approaching. A glance up showed her the limping, dark armored form of Priam Tor, appearing like a shade out of the night air. A moment of consideration revealed that his hood was gone, revealing dark skin and hair, beyond which she could make out nothing. Pausing across the culvert from her, he lifted his hands to either side of his face; she watched as the blades of her saber and _shoto_ sprang to life beside him.

"Priam..."

Somehow her frustration reached across the rush of water and through the darkness. Somehow he replied in a manner that was wholly _him:_ calm, unaffected, but with an edge of irritation and amusement alike. "You dropped something, acolyte."

_She _had not been wounded so badly, and although her lungs still ached she wasn't winded any longer, so Corliss was beside him after one graceful leap across the culvert, holding out her hands for the sabers. They wavered above her outstretched palms and he looked at her. Through the darkness, she could make out his features and was startled to realize that he was...attractive.

Not that she could discern too much, given the oppressive shadows, but his lips were fuller than she'd imagined, and his eyes were liquid and dark...

But still. She glared at him and snatched the hilts away, clipping them to her belt with alacrity. "What of the troopers?"

He shrugged, then nodded in the direction of their ship. "Gone, but they served their purpose. What of the Padawan?"

It was a barb and they both knew it, but Corliss was tired and relieved to have her sabers back, so she pretended to consider. "Much the same. However, they're going to Glee Anselm." They walked in silence for some time before she looked at him again. "What happened to you, anyway?"

In the time she'd known him, Priam Tor had never – to her knowledge – expressed any emotion other than cool disdain or mild amusement. But at this question he scowled outright and did not answer for some time. Finally, just as the _Theta_-class ship came into view, he spoke. "Glee Anselm. That's not even a day's journey from here. You can find them when we reach the system?"

Even in the darkness, even through the layers of control he had built around his emotions, Corliss felt a flare of arousal when she smiled at him, and – strangely enough – felt it mirrored within herself as well. "Most assuredly."

"Excellent," he replied as they approached the ship. "It seems we both have unfinished business to take care of."

The shuttle had been ransacked.

Corliss swore when she caught a glimpse of the helm, where wires had been pulled loose and the navacomputer looked like it had been struck repeatedly with a heavy, blunt object. Priam said nothing, just knelt at the console and began twiddling with wires and pressing buttons. After a moment he glanced at her. "Make yourself useful and see what else they destroyed."

She swore again when she realized that their lone speeder-bike had vanished, the rear cargo bay door open to the night air. After shutting the door she returned to the helm, where Priam was still bent over the nav, brows knit in concentration and face illumined by the cabin lights. Despite the bruising that was starting to appear on his features, her earlier assessment held; his face was finely made, as if sculpted by an artisan, and his skin was the color of caramel. Close-shaven dark hair, dark eyes, full lips...and he was younger than she'd thought, nearly her own age, from what she could tell. The thought occurred to her that Tremayne was several years her senior – approaching thirty, though sometimes he acted very much older.

"What of the rest of the ship?" Priam's voice startled her out of the thought and she frowned as she came to sit in the pilot's seat beside him.

"They stole our speeder-bike, but that appears to be it." In response, he exhaled through his nose and she moved beside him, indicating the console."Can it be fixed?"

He seemed to consider his reply, then glanced at her. "Possibly. But it will take time." There was something in his tone; reaching out with the Force, she sensed an unspoken thought.

But it was one she'd considered as well. "I don't think we should check in with Prakith until we have something to report," she said, sitting upright. "No use bothering anyone. Besides, it will go quicker if we don't have to wait for reinforcements."

Perhaps it wasn't the wisest course of action, but then, it would probably be even more foolish to inform Tremayne of her failure without at least having tried to rectify the error on her own. Besides, she felt more confident in her chances of defeating Zara, now – the incident at the culvert had simply been unlucky – for her skills far outmatched that of her former friend. As for Zara's companions...

Corliss cast a look at the Shadow Guard, who was fingering a strand of wire without appearing to really see it. "Unless you think you'll need backup to handle the Ranger and the clones."

A flare of irritation rose from him at her words, and she gave a self-satisfied smirk; however, in the next moment his dark eyes fell on her, and she felt his irritation smooth into something colder and more dangerous, something distant, something that she recognized, but something that was not focused on her. _Vengeance_. He did not speak at first, but an understanding passed between them, and she watched determination set itself upon his face.

"I can handle them," he replied, though she caught a small note of relief in his voice. They exchanged another, different look, then he nodded to the console. "This shouldn't take more than a few hours, assuming they didn't remove any vital components."

"I can help," she said, leaning forward to take a look at his work so far. "My old master taught me quite a bit about nav systems." As she did so, she noted that his eyes landed on her chest, then flicked away in an instant, and she felt a tiny bit of satisfaction at the idea that she'd made the stone-cold Shadow Guard reveal _something_ of himself. The damage to the nav was bad, but superficial, and she figured that the clones – the ones she assumed had done the deed – had not had sufficient time to cause any true harm.

So they worked in silence for a few minutes, then she glanced at him again. "I can do this, if you need to patch up." Indeed, the bruising on his face had started to darken into an ugly purple welt, not quite a black-eye, that was spreading over his cheek and to his brow.

But his face darkened and he seemed to ignore her, though, after a moment he actually sighed and shook his head, muttering something under his breath. Curious, Corliss paused in her wiring and shot him a raised brow. The Shadow Guard gave her a brief glance, then frowned back at the nav. "It was the first time that armor had seen battle."

The implication of his carefully-chosen words was not lost on her, and she tried to think back to when he first started serving with the Inquisitorius. Once she realized that it hadn't been very long at all, his annoyance made a bit more sense, and the realization occurred to her that this was very likely his first true mission.

Of course, it was not in her nature to be sympathetic, so she only regarded him with a lifted brow. "I'd say you were actually embarrassed about it, Priam," she said at last, giving a light laugh and returned her attention to the tangle of wires she was in the process of sorting. "If I didn't know any better."

His reply was dark and so quiet she almost missed it. "Perhaps one day you will."

* * *

When Drake woke up the next morning, he was initially aware of only two sounds: the quiet, persistent humming of the _Spiral Dance_'s engines, and the soft whisper of Zara's breath against his chest. The first sound was pleasant enough, as it indicated that they were still moving and not under attack, but it was the second that captivated him; glancing down, he smiled at the blue-skinned young woman in his arms, and considered pinching himself to see if the whole thing had been one of his dreams. There was a murmur of noise from her as several of her _lekku _twitched, and he wondered if she was dreaming about last night.

It had been awkward at first, clumsy and stumbling and strange, though all of those things had faded before too long and now...

At the memories, Drake kissed the topmost curve of one of her _lek_, and noted with amusement that it twitched again. Certainly, he'd learned how sensitive they were during their foray into physical intimacy, but he'd never imagined...anyway, he figured they it was probably time to get up, as they likely had much to course, that meant that he should wake her, but he didn't really want to, because that would signal an end to this otherwise perfect moment.

Truthfully, all he wanted to do was lie here with her forever...or at least until she woke up, in which case he could think of a few things to occupy their time.

However, the Force or destiny, or whatever it was that had such a big hand in his life, seemed to have other ideas.

Moments later, they were both jolted upright by a horrific sound emitting from the speaker that was embedded in the wall beside the door panel; beginning as a crackle and a hissing whine of static, the noise merged into Tully's voice, which was unusually chipper and very, very loud. "_Good morning, kiddos. Up and at 'em, rise and shine, today's a new day, and any other pointless colloquialisms you can think of. Whatever gets your _shebse_ out of bed...meeting at the helm in...oh, I don't know...twenty minutes ago-"_

Drake had – reluctantly – leaped from the bed in order to slam his hand against the panel as he replied: "_Haar'chaak,_ Tully! We're up, okay?"

Naturally, his ire did not have the effect that he wanted, and the last thing he heard from the elder clone was a wry chuckle, which was echoed by the light sound of Zara's own laughter from the direction of the bunk. He turned and eyed her as she sat up and giggled at him, one hand covering her mouth while the other propped her upright. Drake's annoyance slid from him at once as he approached her. "You think that's funny, do you?"

"I think _you're_ funny," she replied, tilting her head to smile at him as he stood over her. Her hand fell and he remembered that she was wearing his shirt, and why. Her smile was wide and he leaned down to kiss her. They were distracted for a few more minutes before she pulled back and gave him a stern look. "He's right, though. We really should get up."

"I know," he sighed. "Lots to do." He raised his brows at her and felt a thrill of happiness when she laughed again. After a moment he began sorting through the piles of clothes that had been cast aside, handing her the tunic she'd shucked the night before while he pulled on his own pants. Their fingers brushed and as he met her eyes, he figured that he should probably say _something _about what had happened between them.

Of course, what that might be, he had no clue.

She seemed to feel the same way, for she paused and began to toy with a loose thread on one of the blankets beneath her legs before she spoke. "You don't...regret anything, right?"

"Not in the slightest," he answered at once, shaking his head for good measure. A cold feeling crept into his gut as he studied her. "Do you?"

That lovely indigo blush swept across her cheeks and _lekku_, and she gave a shake of her head as well. "No, Drake. It was...wonderful." A light laugh escaped her, and she placed her hand on his arm, holding his gaze with her own. "You _are_ wonderful."

There was no fitting response other than to kiss her again, so he did, and in the back of his mind he figured that Tully and the others would just have to wait a bit longer.

Some time later they were both dressed and slipping out of her room, making for the helm where the others were waiting. Levy was in the pilot's seat, with Johari at the nav and Tully was leaning over the chair behind her. All three held cups of steaming caf and were talking in low tones. Upon Drake and Zara's arrival, Levy glanced up and gave them a brief smile; Johari nodded in their direction, and Tully did not turn, though his head inclined their way.

"So glad you could join us," Tully said. "Really, we appreciate it."

Drake scowled at the former ARC but Zara ignored him and looked between Levy and Johari. "How much longer until we reach Glee Anselm?"

If Drake hadn't known any better, he would have thought that the movement of Levy's hands was a little halting, awkward and strange as he replied. _Not long. Just a few hours. _

"We're heading for an area in the southeastern hemisphere," the Echani woman added, glancing over the nav. "It has the largest area of landmass, which is the most likely place that the _kina _flower can be found." She paused, then looked at Zara. "Are you...do you have anyone there?"

Beside him, Zara grew very still, and Drake frowned in thought. As far as he knew, the Jedi didn't stay in touch with their families, so he had no idea how Zara would know anyone on Glee Anselm.

After a moment, Zara shook her head. "I was brought to the Temple when I was less than a year old. Master Fisto found me in an orphanage in the capital city, Pieralos; they didn't even know who dropped me off." Her voice had softened at the last part of the sentence, and Drake watched her brows furrow. He rubbed at her arm and gave her an encouraging smile when she met his eyes; a moment later she returned the smile with her own, larger one. "I'm looking forward to it, actually. It'll be...exciting to see where I'm from."

Johari nodded and – to Drake's surprise – gave the Padawan a soft smile before she continued. "There are quite a few farms in the section where we're headed, though I hope that I'll remember something more substantial when we approach."

"Otherwise it's going to be a lot of aimless wandering," Tully added.

For some time they stood at the helm, watching the streak of stars from hyperspace tunnel before them; absently, Drake put his arm around Zara's waist. After a few minutes he spoke, his voice pitched low so that only she could hear it. "Are you really okay?"

She cast him a glance, looking thoughtful as she replied. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be? Well," she amended, eying him. "Besides the fact that we're on the run from a former-Padawan-turned-Inquisitor. But I am looking forward to seeing Glee Anselm."

"I know, but..." he hesitated. "You're nervous," he said at last. He could read the emotion in the way she held her _lekku_, and the way that her breath had hitched as she'd mentioned the orphanage.

"I am," she admitted after a moment, meeting his eyes. "But I'm excited, too. It's a...strange feeling. This is my homeworld, you know. I feel like a tourist in a way, because I've always wanted to visit...it's supposed to be beautiful." Her tone turned a bit wistful at the end of her speech, and her gaze turned distant.

Drake nodded; it made sense, he supposed. Of course, he had no inclination to ever return to Kamino, but his memories of that place were a little too fresh, even years after he'd even set foot in Tipoca City. But Zara, he imagined, would hold the planet of her birth in high regard, even if she wasn't entirely Nautolan. So he squeezed his hand around her waist, more to feel her body press against his than anything else, and gave her a smile that she returned. "Then I can't wait to see it."

Her smile broadened, and it was then – perhaps even more so than earlier, when they were in her cabin – that he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, like he was _home_. After that thought it was difficult to resist the urge to kiss her, mostly because the others were so close, but in the end he gave a mental shrug and closed the space between them, though it was only for a moment.

It didn't last nearly long enough. When they parted, he realized that the others were all facing straight ahead, as if deliberately trying not to look at them, especially Levy, who shifted in his chair and frowned at the swirl of stars. At the subtle movement, Drake winced inwardly. Despite the fact that it was no secret that he'd held an attraction to Zara for years, Drake hadn't considered what Levy would think of the fact that he and Zar were...whatever they were.

Everything was quiet for some time longer, until Levy gently tugged the _Spiral Dance _out of hyperspace and they began to approach their destination.

In the viewport, Glee Anselm glowed with shifting colors of blue and turquoise, with patches of green and brown scattered across the surface. Huge white swirls of clouds coiled above certain areas, indications of massive storms. Drake took Zara's hand in his own and laced their fingers together, and as one they stood beside one another and watched her homeworld approach.

* * *

_On Prakith..._

Antinnis Tremayne watched the slow glide of the hoverstretchers as the droids navigated their way out of the hangar and into the Citadel proper. The forms strapped to the stretchers were motionless, though a mild brush with the Force indicated to him that the beings contained were _alive. _There were only half a dozen left of the original group that his agents had ambushed on Toydaria barely a day ago, which had been at least three times that many, but it didn't matter. The ones that remained were strong.

With the addition of the Padawan that Corliss was to apprehend, and any Force-users that the Altisians were hiding, the number of Inquisitors was about to expand even more.

He smiled at the thought. The Inquisitorius was still a fledgling organization but the Emperor's demands were great, requiring many more bodies with which to root out any remaining pockets of Jedi as well as any non-Force users with rebellion in their hearts. It had been the Emperor's idea to turn any of the lightsiders that were uncovered against their own, convincing them to join with the Empire. It had worked on Eshe Umari, Corliss and others, but they had been leaning towards the Dark already, so it had been a simple matter to convince them to turn. It would be more difficult, he knew, to turn those who seemed to have no darkness within them.

Difficult, but not impossible.

A stretcher passed close by and he idly glanced down at the young Zabraki boy who was bound, his face flaccid with sleep. Like the others, his Force-signature was strong, which made Tremayne nod to himself. What a coup it had been to locate the collection of Force-sensitives, hidden away on an old freighter in the orbit of Toydaria. Altis had been a fool to think he could keep them safe from the Empire.

"And yet, the Master himself still eludes you, doesn't he?" Umari's voice was mild and conversational, though the words were barbed.

But Tremayne was in too good of a mood to have the Pantoran woman spoil it, so he nodded once. "Not for long." The stretcher passed by, followed by another, this one containing an indigo-skinned Chagrian girl, older than the Zabraki.

Umari gave a chuckle. "Ah, of course. Your dear little Zeltron is hard at work on your promotion. How delightful for you."

The mention of Corliss caused Tremayne to frown inwardly, because she should have called to let him know that she captured the Padawan and was on her way back to Prakith. It was not like her to be silent, and he wondered briefly if she'd gotten herself killed somehow. A quick glance at his wrist-comm confirmed that her locator signal was still active; although he was unable to pinpoint her exact location, she was likely still alive, and he felt a breath escape him at the realization. Still, it was unusual.

However, he gave the burgundy-haired Pantoran an indifferent look. "See to it that our _guests_ are properly attended, Umari. I have much work to do." With that, he turned and walked away, noting the irritation in her eyes at the order.

The corridor that led to the main body of the Citadel was quiet, save for his own steps, and when he reached the interior of the stronghold he made at once for the closest turbolift. Finally, when he was in his office once more, he activated the lock on the door and entered in the code that would open up a transmission to Corliss' shuttle. At first there was no response, then after a few minutes he watched as Corliss' figure bloomed before him, only to immediately begin flickering as if there were interference between them.

She knelt, but he knew at once that something was...different, for she seemed almost eager to stare at the floor, where normally she kept attempting to lift her eyes to his. Tremanye frowned to himself as he spoke. "Report."

He waited as the word hung in the air.

When she answered, her calm tone was forced. "We are about to reach Glee Anselm, Master."

"Glee Anselm? What happened on Humbarine?"

Another pause. Finally she took a breath and he watched as her shoulders slumped a fraction of an inch. "The Padawan escaped, Master. But she placed her hands on me during our fight, and I was able to sense her next move. Priam and I are en route, and should be there within-"

"Priam?" It was simple to act surprised, and he noted that she winced slightly as he lifted his brow at her. "Acolyte, you speak as if you are familiar with the Shadow Guard."

Corliss shifted in her crouch, and he thought that her eyes flicked somewhere off-screen, though she looked back towards him after a moment. "There are only the two of us left, Master. The stormtroopers were killed in a fight against Padawan Karell's companions – a small group of Fett clones – and she is also accompanied by an Echani Antarian Ranger, whom Shadow Tor engaged in combat."

"I see. And why was I not informed of the new developments immediately?" Tremayne pitched his voice to be a near-growl, and he watched as she grimaced, all attempts at subterfuge gone. "Never mind, Corliss. It doesn't matter. Bring me the Padawan. Do as you like with the clones and the Ranger."

She seemed relieved that he did not mention the Shadow Guard again, and nodded eagerly. "Yes, Master Tremayne."

But he was reluctant to let her off easily. Tremayne said her name and watched her eyes lift to meet him. "You should not engage in too much conversation with Shadow Tor. Unlike me, he only desires you for your body. He cares nothing for your mind, your heart, or your talents. Not as I do, anyway." He gave her a very small smile. "And I am a jealous man, you know."

As expected, her flush was deep and she returned his half-smile with a beam. "Yes, Antinnis. I understand." She swallowed and looked at him again, hunger and _need_ apparent in her gaze even through the flickering and static. "You won't have to wait much longer."

* * *

_Since I've gotten a few comments on this, I'm reminding everyone that Jo is about 25 years old; she just acts a bit older. :P _

_Thanks for reading!  
_


	19. Waterworld

Song: "What The Water Gave Me," by Florence and the Machine, from the (amazing) album, _Ceremonials_.

_Caveat: there's a bit of time-jumping in this chapter._

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Waterworld**

_Time it took us,  
To where the water was;  
That's what the water gave me.  
_

The air in Nereid tasted like salt.

Tully had visited an ocean a few times before; aside from the swollen waves on Kamino there were the fathomless seas of Tibrin and Mon Calamari. However, those bodies of water were truly wide, far reaching as the eye could see, nothing but a vast stretch of writhing blue. In the former ARC's experience, oceans were usually accompanied by trouble, mostly centered on the fact that operating underwater was a tricky, unreliable business. He didn't care for it.

At least there was land in this small merchant community on Glee Anselm. Humidity added an unpleasant thickness to the already clammy air, and he could smell the salt of the seawater. Even without the use of his eyes, he felt that he knew everything there was to know about this placed from a few moments' attention: there was the resonance of dinging buoys as they bobbed along nearby central waterways; the musty scent of motor oil from fishing boats being repaired; shrieking gulls and other waterfowl as they careened overhead, looking for a meal; the creak of old-style, rattlebang doors that gave Nereid its local charm.

The thought made the blind clone snort. Charm, his _shebs_. He didn't care what kind of touristy claptrap the HoloNet funneled out...this place _felt_ like a dump.

Ahead of him, he could hear Johari and Zara speaking in low tones. He knew that the lads were nearby, keeping an eye on the others from a more distant perspective in case trouble showed up before they were ready to leave. Since the Padawan most closely resembled a native and the slender Echani woman was – on some level – familiar with the planet, it had been decided that they should handle the bulk of the conversing with the locals.

At his own behest, Tully's role was to remain intimidating and aloof in the background, providing a general 'don't mess with us' feeling, a task for which he was well-suited.

Despite the fact that it was midday, logically a busy time in a tourist-town such as Nereid, there was not much chatter around them as they made their way down the main thoroughfare of the township. Beneath his boots he could tell that the ground consisted of hard-packed dirt rather than pavement, and Johari had commented on the abundance of wooden buildings that looked in need of repair. Everything smelled _wet_, as though the entire place had been recently saturated with rainfall, and every few steps his boots knocked into a piece of debris – driftwood, broken chunks of duracrete, pieces of crumpled flimsi that he assumed was garbage – as if the street had not been swept in some time.

The Padawan sounded a little uncertain. "Do you remember any of this, Jo?"

"A little bit," she replied, and Tully imagined that she was glancing around, studying the place without trying to appear that way. "For the most part it looks like any other surface town on Glee Anselm."

"They're all like...this?" Zara's voice had dropped in pitch, and Tully sighed inwardly, thinking that she was a sweet kid, but also that she seemed a little naïve for a Jedi. Even an almost-Jedi.

He thought that Jo agreed, though her reply was tactful. "How much do you know of Glee Anselm, Zara?"

There was a pause, then the young Nautolan cleared her throat and began to recite facts that sounded like they'd come straight out of a reg manual. "It's primarily a water-covered-world, with clear landmasses covering only a small percentage of its surface. In addition to oceans, there are abundant swamps, wetlands, and lakes. There are frequent season changes, and thus many monsoons and hurricanes. The climate is moderate-"

"Zara..." Johari paused, causing the others to do so as well. Tully heard the rustle of fabric and thought that the Echani woman was putting a hand on the Padawan's shoulder. When she spoke again, her voice was very quiet. "I'm not familiar with Glee Anselm's current economic status, but I can tell just by looking around that things are not going well at the moment."

There was another pause, then the Padawan spoke. "I...I can see that, too. It's not what I was expecting, I guess. But it's still my home planet. And besides-"

But before she could finish her thought, the clone caught a new scent on the wind, a sweetness that contrasted with the tang of saltwater. "Hate to interrupt," he murmured. "But is there a flower shop or something nearby? And aren't we looking for one?"

"I don't see...oh, wait," Zara replied. "There's a cart over there...looks like it's in a marketplace."

He could discern the smile in Jo's voice when she spoke, and felt a flare of pride from the realization. "A flower-seller. Thanks, Tully."

The marketplace, or what there was of it, was not crowded, as he figured it should have been. Matter-of-fact, there were hardly any beings around, from what he could tell. Besides the local language of which he had no understanding he heard a smattering of Basic, but the voices were few and far between. As their group walked, he heard the speech pause, as if the speakers were regarding the newcomers, and he figured that they were hopeful that the trio would bring about a bit of much-needed business.

When he heard his companions pause, Tully figured that they'd reached the flower-seller at last; indeed, a moment of inhalation brought him the crisp scent of fresh-cut flowers, though there was an almost overpowering edge to the accompanying sweet smell which signaled that many of the blossoms were past their prime. There was a scuff of dirt and the sound of footsteps, then the lilting, accented Basic of the male proprietor. "Greetings, friends! How may I help you on this beautiful day?"

"These are all so lovely," Zara replied in a bright tone. "But we're actually looking for a specific kind that I don't see out...do you have _kina _flowers by any chance?"

Silence. Tully strained and noted the faint sound of _lekku_ against fabric, as if the vendor was looking over the Padawan; he'd heard similar sounds from her in the past so he was able to identify it. When the flower-seller spoke again, his voice was remorseful. "My apologies, young lady. I've not had any _kina_ flowers here in some time."

Zara replied, her tone softer this time. "I didn't catch your name..."

"Gal Tapani, at your service," the vendor replied. "And you are...not from around here, I see."

"No, sir, we're not," she said. "But we'd very much like to find some of those flowers. Do you know of anyone who does have some?"

There was another bout of silence, long enough to make Tully frown, but then Gal Tapani spoke again, his voice a little rough. "I'm afraid the only farm that provided them to everyone has gone out of business, young one." Zara must have looked disappointed, for there was a sound like the vendor was patting her shoulder. "It's much the way of things, now, I'm afraid. Ever since the latest monsoon season...well, look around for yourself. We haven't recovered, and the tourists don't much care to bring their money to a place that looks like the ocean tried to swallow it."

Zara spoke again, her voice quiet, though Tully could hear the astonishment behind her words. "The Empire hasn't provided any relief efforts? But I thought-"

Tapani gave a bitter laugh. "Let's just say that the provincial governor assigned to our system has...other matter on his mind than a bunch of water-logged 'tailheads.' Not that the Empire hasn't done wonderful things for others in the galaxy," he amended, his voice shifting in pitch as though he were glancing around nervously. "I'm sure I can think of some in a moment."

"Be at peace, friend," Jo replied in an easy tone. "We haven't come to question your loyalty. We would only like to know where one might find the farm that used to sell you the _kina _flowers."

The Nautolan's reply was curious. "What interest would an off-worlder have in an abandoned flower farm, I wonder?"

Tully heard the Padawan's mouth open and her indrawn breath, but it was Jo who spoke. "Zara here is trying to find her family, you see. We've followed a trail from and orphanage in Pieralos all the way out here, and she has reason to believe that one of her parents worked on that farm."

"Well, I'm sorry to say that farm has been empty for some time," the flower-seller replied. " But I wish you good luck, child. I hope that you find what you're looking for." With that, he gave them directions to the outskirts of town, also naming a place where they could rent a speeder, as it would be quite a hike otherwise and local laws prohibited them from flying the _Dance_ through the area. Soon Tully heard Jo moving along, so he turned to follow her.

However. "Sir...how much for this bundle?" The Padawan's voice was a little uncertain, and Tully felt Jo tense beside him, though she turned a moment later.

There was a rustle, and the sound of wrapping flimsi, then Tapani spoke. "No, no, young lady, put your credits away. Consider them a gift. If you don't find your family, I don't want you to leave this world empty handed."

Tully couldn't help but smile as the girl stammered out a 'thank you,' then hurried after the others, and they made their way to rejoin the lads.

* * *

Like most other aspects of the township of Nereid, the speeder had seen better days, but Johari was not one to judge. Despite the owner of the shop's anxiousness to rent to the offworlders, there did not appear to be a vehicle large enough to accommodate everyone comfortably, so she, Zara and Levy had taken the rear seats, while Drake and Tully sat up front, the former steering while the latter remained silent. In fact, everyone was quiet, as if lost in thought, which suited the Echani woman just fine.

Her memories were starting to return with greater clarity, and she found herself growing lost in thought. One memory in particular came to her mind...

* * *

It was nearly two years ago, just after she and Atreus had set off on their – as Tully had put it – 'foolish, idealistic crusade' to hide the Great Holocron.

Johari was on the _Spiral Dance, _in her cabin. Atreus was in the room beside hers, and it was the deepest part of the night-cycle. Perhaps she should have been asleep, but she'd been restless for the last few nights of their journey after leaving Mira and Tully, and she found that sleep was eluding her. So it was because of this, because of the fact that she was awake, that she heard the soft sound of a groan from Atreus' cabin. It was hardly anything – a mutter of incoherence rather than true speech – but it was enough to rouse her from her bed and step towards his room, tentatively knocking against his door.

"Atreus?" Before they'd set off, Tully had warned her to keep an eye on the Jedi during his "episodes," in case he lost consciousness, choked, or something equally unpleasant. So far, they'd been lucky. There was no answer – no sound at all, actually – so she rapped again.

Nothing. Then she heard it: another murmur of sound followed by a choked gasp. Thinking he was in danger, she disabled the lock on the panel and swept into the room, ready to assist the Jedi should he need it. She had seen him in the throes of his visions before, had witnessed firsthand over the course of the Wars just how violent and wretched the seizures could be, and was prepared to do what was necessary to ensure that no harm came to him for the duration of the episode. She was prepared for flailing limbs, for spittle on her face, for blows from his hands against her person as he was wracked by things only he could see.

What she was not prepared for was all of the above, in addition to the sight of Jedi Knight, Atreus Rand, lying on his bunk completely naked.

For a moment she was frozen with shock; she had seen a naked man before, but there was something about Atreus right now that was unlike any of those other times, which had all been during the act of love. However, there was nothing even remotely sexual about this moment.

And then he groaned again, as if in great pain, and her Ranger training kicked in, so she hurried forward to help him. Johari turned his head to the side as Tully had shown that first day – years ago, now – and ensured that his airways were clear, after which she sat beside him on the bed tried to keep him still. Despite her attempt to collect herself, she felt another thrill of shyness overtake her at his current state, and so was careful to keep her hands above his waist line.

Even so, she couldn't help but notice how muscular he was, lithe and lean, not bulky like Tully. In their past missions together, the Miralukan man had been modest to a fault – again, unlike the ARC lieutenant, who seemed to have no qualms about being seen by anyone, in _any_ capacity or state of undress. More than once she'd had to suddenly turn away as the clone would exit her sister's room, sauntering to the 'fresher with nothing between himself and the rest of the galaxy.

Jo shook away the thought and turned her attention back to Atreus, who'd stilled at last. As he came out of the episode, his breathing returned to normal and after a moment, he shifted and spoke. "I'm naked, aren't I?"

"I'm afraid so," she replied, looking at the ceiling as heat crept to her cheeks.

Atreus sighed and reached for his discarded sleep pants and shirt while Jo continued to avert her eyes; after a moment she stood up from the bed and faced the opposite wall. "Sorry about that, Jo. I don't know why it happens...another quirk of the Sight, I suppose," he said, the words coming out very quickly. "I don't know if the Antarian Rangers ever covered anything like this in their training."

"Not really," she replied with a smile. "But it's nothing I can't handle." Naturally she felt heat creep to her cheeks once she considered the alternate meaning to her words, but he made no comment. A furtive glance showed her that he was attired once more, so she turned back around. "You didn't say anything that I could catch. Do you happen to remember...?"

He nodded and ran a hand through his dark brown hair, pausing to adjust the scarf he wore about his eyes before he spoke. "A building on Glee Anselm. A house...well, more of a shack. Between the ocean and...a marsh of some kind." He frowned in thought a moment before swinging his legs around to the edge of the bunk. Johari moved to stand closer, but still out of arm's reach as he continued. "There was also a girl – a Nautolan, sort of."

"Sort of a Nautolan?"

Atreus frowned, but nodded again. "The Force indicated that she wasn't entirely that race. Pale skin, not as many _lekku_ as most Nautolans. Maybe she has some Twi'lek blood?" He sighed. "It was difficult to make out, but from what I could tell she was running through the marsh grasses, and carrying..." His voice dropped to hardly a whisper. "She was carrying a lightsaber."

Johari stepped closer, noting how Atreus tensed at the movement. "She's a Jedi?"

He shook his head, and when he spoke, his tone was grim. "The saber was...not one of a Jedi. I could tell from the way that the beam sounded, and of the anger that surrounded her. Jo," he said, lifting his head to face the Echani woman. "She was a Sith, or something like it."

* * *

"Just throw something at her if she's not answering." Tully's voice broke Johari from her reverie and all at once she was back within the confines of her body, seated between Zara and Levy in the back of a speeder that was rushing across a dirt road; on either side of her she could see a bast stretch of marshland, with ribbons of brackish water pooling between tall, thick grasses that rippled with the wind. To one side of the road, what appeared to be klicks away in the direction they'd come, looked like a patch of slender pine trees; to the other, faintly glimmering in the afternoon light, was the sea. When she inhaled, she tasted salt on the back of her tongue.

"You looked like you were sleeping," Zara said, her expression curious as she absently toyed with the bright bouquet of wildflowers in her lap. "Is everything okay?"

Jo blinked at the girl as the words of Atreus' vision returned to her, although she had no idea what they meant. _A Sith, or something like it. _"I think I remember where we're going," she said carefully. "A weathered shack, with the windows broken out..."

She trailed off as Levy lifted his hands and 'spoke' to her even as he nodded ahead of them. _Which one?_

Zara repeated the words out loud, and everyone – save Tully – peered over the edge at the group of structures which they were approaching. Indeed, Jo could make out a collection of buildings that _all _appeared to match Atreus' description, though none of them jumped out as being familiar just yet. Drake pulled the speeder up towards the center of them, a rounded, dirt 'courtyard' that was surrounded by the largest of the buildings. After their vehicle came to a coughing stop, he glanced behind him at the Echani. "Any of this ringing a mental bell?"

She shook her head and glanced at Levy, who had started to slide out of the speeder to allow her to step out. "Perhaps if I walk around."

Everyone clambered out of the speeder and began to follow the Echani woman around the area, the younger clones automatically falling behind in a wide arc to keep an eye out for danger while Tully remained at her side. Zara walked beside her as well, head turning from side to side as she too examined the surrounding area. Like the ones in Nereid proper, the buildings on this farm were made of wood, with old-style glass windows and swinging doors.

Beyond them, interspersed throughout the marshy terrain, Jo could make out the remnants of _kina_ flower fields that had been planted in such a way to mingle with the natural environment. Wild _kina_ flowers grew, along with spidery grasses, thistles, and various other plants that she couldn't identify. Weeds had overtaken much of the homestead, infiltrating everything from the slats of shaded porches to a few pieces of farming equipment that had been abandoned.

"I don't like this," Tully said as they walked. "It's too quiet."

Beside her, Zara frowned, but said nothing; the other clones kept a fairly wide perimeter at first, though after a few minutes they returned to Zara's side, and the group as a whole continued to investigate the area. Finally, Johari paused outside a particularly dilapidated building, so much so that the roof had mostly caved in; through the broken glass windows she could see plants growing up between the floorboards. She stood on the porch, placed her hands along the railing, and tried to remember.

Suddenly, she shook her head and turned, not to the next building, but to the side of the current one; there was a broken rain barrel, halved and turned belly-up on the ground, and at once she felt a strong pull of memory in its direction, so she urged Tully along and they approached the decrepit spot. Lichen and moss were covering the outside of the barrel, but when she knelt and rolled it over...

"Wow," Zara breathed, leaning forward to examine the slender, opalescent disks that had been revealed, each one about as wide as both of her outstretched hands together and shaped in a smooth oval. "What are those?" Hearing her exclamation, the others had come to crowd around, except Tully, who stood a little ways off, head lifted as he listened for trouble.

Johari lifted one of the disks, noting how the sunlight seemed to saturate it with rainbows. "It's a fireworm scale," she whispered, tilting the object before her and watching as it caught the light. "A creature from the planet Eol Sha."

Atreus' voice sounded in the back of her mind: _I don't care how pretty they are...I don't want to have to go back to that planet ever again._

* * *

"Eol Sha?" Zara asked, furrowing her brow even as Levy and Drake came to stand beside her to examine the scale as well. Galactic geography had never been her strong suite, after all. "Where's that?"

"Outer-Rim, Corva Sector," Tully replied from behind, a frown in his voice as he swiveled his head around in a way that indicated he was standing guard in his own way. Though he was nearby, Levy was also studying the marshy area with a wary eye.

Knees bent, Johari was still beside the cracked rain-barrel, turning the scale over in her fingers; this particular one was a pale silver color, though it shimmered in the light, appearing opalescent when the Echani woman tilted it from side to side. Beneath it, embedded in the soil, were several more of varying shades of pale and crimson, one of which Zara selected. "They're so light," she said, holding it up to her eye and squinting as she tried to peer through the transparent scale. "What kind of creature is a fireworm, anyway?"

Again, Tully spoke, though it was not in response to Zara's question. "Kriff," he muttered, the severity of his tone causing the others to look up at once. "We've got company."

Immediately, everyone came together and moved almost as one to take cover in the shade of the building and face the circular driveway, as the urgency of Tully's voice indicated that time was of the essence, and there was little opportunity to find shelter within the building proper. For several moments, there was no sound save the lull of wind through tall grasses and the odd creak of a door.

Then she felt it: a ripple of anger and determination that was growing stronger with each moment. Behind those feelings, Zara sensed a greater note of loss, of bitter sorrow and fear that she recognized all-too-well.

Corliss was coming for her.

As if on its own, Zara's hand sought her saber at her hip, and her entire body tensed. Normally she would have ignored the Zeltron's very palpable emotions, but something stirred within her, now. She recalled the unfettered hate in her friend's gaze back on Humbarine, and felt a chill of fear overtake her, along with the realization that she was outmatched.

_No_. Zara shook her head and closed her grip on her lightsaber. Corliss was skilled, no doubt, but Zara trusted herself and the teaching she'd received over the years. And – perhaps most importantly – she trusted the Force. Despite everything, it had led her to this point in space and time, and she was unwilling to believe that it was all to have her be struck down by someone she once called 'friend.'

Reaching her own awareness out further, Zara realized that Corliss was not alone, and that she and her single ally were not approaching from the driveway, but rather to the side, as if emerging from the marsh itself. Drake and Levy were flanking her; the latter did not look her way but she heard his voice in her mind. _Sense anything? _

She relayed what she knew, adding that she would give the signal to go, and watched as his hands flew so that the others – except Tully – could understand. Moments later, though, she saw Drake reach out to tug at the corner of the elder clone's jacket and watched him give a curt nod.

Johari flicked her eyes to Zara, who at last pulled out her saber but did not ignite it. There was no one else around, no one who would bear witness to the battle that was about to take place. Drake tensed beside her, Levy as well. Tully tightened his grip on his blaster.

With the understanding that the Force had led her here, Zara felt a pang of anger, as she'd experienced after Humbarine, only this time it was accompanied by a splash of power that made her eyes widen. The thought occurred to her that it was true, that Corliss was no longer her friend, no longer the same girl she'd known all those years ago on Coruscant; she was twisted almost beyond recognition within the Dark Side. It was a painful realization that sliced through Zara's mind even as her heart rebelled at the idea that her friend was truly lost.

Within her, fear eddied through the anger, and although she tried to push the emotions to the side as she knew she should, it was difficult. Perhaps more than it should have been, perhaps even more so when she could feel the Force pooling around her as her grip tightened on her lightsaber. Power sang within her veins, and it took every ounce of self control she possessed to restrain her emotions.

A sudden, soft touch against her shoulder pulled her out of her dark thoughts, and she turned to see that Drake looking at her with concern. When he spoke, his voice was pitched so that only she could hear. "Don't go running off on your own again, Zar. We need to stick together."

No response came to her, so she only nodded and faced forward.

The air seemed to crackle with static when Corliss and her companion approached.

Tully was the first one to react, his sharp hearing having caught the location of the Imperials before even Zara's senses. He turned towards the left and fired his weapon, down the main thoroughfare that led through the collection of buildings; immediately, there was a _snap-hiss _of igniting sabers and then Zara saw the dark-armored figure of Corliss, a Shadow Guard close on her heels, his own saber-pike alight and glowing an angry red as he deflected Tully's bolt.

Corliss' eyes flashed when they fell upon Zara and the Zeltron's expression was challenging. The Padawan gathered the Force to her and leaped over the heads of her companions, trusting in their aim, landed between Corliss and the Guard, and the battle began in earnest.

Immediately, the structure of the fight became clear: Drake and Levy kept to the perimeter, ensuring that neither of their enemies strayed away, firing when they felt they had a clear shot; Tully and Jo rushed for the Guard, and Zara noted out of the corner of her eye that the blind clone seemed to be an extraordinary warrior in this fashion. He and Johari moved as one, with the latter shouting out words in the Echani language that seemed to provide the clone with a direction for his blows, and she recalled Drake mentioning how he'd "guided" Tully in a similar fashion back on Humbarine. She could see that already the Guard was outmatched, but that it would be a difficult fight.

_Levy, _she thought. _Make sure that the Shadow Guard doesn't hurt either of them. I can handle Corliss. _It was not a theory, she realized, nor a selfless gesture. She could _feel _the power of the Force flowing through her body, like a river threading towards a vast ocean.

There was no time to see if her friend had caught her words, for Corliss lunged at her, and Zara had to pirouette away to avoid the sting of the twin red blades. But the Force was with her; she sank into it and allowed it to buoy her movements, allowed it to _show_ her where she needed to go and when. How was simply a matter of releasing control. Zara Karell was not real; there was only the Force.

Some part of her brain recognized the battle of the others, that the Shadow Guard had managed to strike a blow to the Echani woman – not enough to damage her permanently – but enough to cause her to stumble. That same small section of her mind watched with satisfaction as Levy rushed forward and landed a kick at the Guard's knee, causing him to stumble while the Ranger righted herself. But it was a small moment, really, when she herself was almost insubstantial within the swelling tide that was the Force.

And then she heard Corliss' voice.

"You will fall, Zara, as all the Jedi have fallen. Weak, blind and stupid...that's the only legacy that they left to us." The other young woman whirled and struck with her saber and _shoto_, which Zara parried so that their blades were crossed between them and they were less than an arm's length apart. Corliss' eyes were narrowed and her lips were parted in a feral snarl as she spoke.

Anger coursed through Zara at the statement, at the thought of Order 66 and the holo-vids she'd seen of the Jedi Temple smoking in the night; for weeks and weeks afterward, she and the other Jedi she'd taken refuge with had huddled together, watching the footage of their former home being razed. Other things came to her mind, unbidden: she recalled the tattered section of Nereid they'd visited and the hopelessness of its inhabitants in the wake of the new Empire, which was making no strides to help; Humbarine – an entire planet – was gone...for nothing. For a war that never should have been, from what she could tell, anyway. How many lives had been lost, Jedi, clone and civilian alike?

Her vision swam for a moment, but she fought for control, remembering Honi's calm counsel and Kalinda's wry smile, even in the wake of devastation. She remembered the bouquet of wildflowers that the flower-seller had freely given, even though he obviously needed the money that she'd offered.

Despite everything, there was still good in the galaxy, and the realization bolstered her as she looked into her former friend's eyes. There was good even in the midst of cruelty. Even in the darkest night, there was a little bit of light.

So Zara did not reply to Corliss' goading, instead sliding back as if to regain her balance. The Zeltron followed, lunging forward once more, nearly colliding with Drake, who was in the process of aiming for her; Corliss lifted her hand and sent the clone back with a shove of the Force, eying Zara even as she did so, her gaze challenging. Drake struggled, but appeared to be pinned in place.

Beyond them, the others were still fighting, and Zara spared a glance to assess their condition. It wasn't good. The Shadow Guard had regained the upper hand, Levy and Jo were both limping, and Tully had retreated with his blaster once more, attempting to fire where he could hear the heavy step of the Guard. But it wasn't going to last much longer.

So Zara gathered the Force to her, likening the sensation to a tide of energy that she drew to herself both from within her own form and from the world beyond. It started to fill every part of her spirit before she felt it extend past her own body, saturating the air as if with impending rain and the hard-packed dirt of the area felt spongy, though it was a fleeting sensation.

Corliss' voice snapped her attention back. "You've lost, Zar." She lifted her sabers and gave a light laugh as the Shadow Guard knocked Levy back and landed a sharp blow to Johari, causing her to stagger backwards; then he turned his attention to Tully. Drake had gotten to his feet but was still disoriented from Corliss' Force-push, and was stumbling forward as if blind. "Just face it, already."

As she called on the Force, Zara closed her eyes in concentration, immersing herself in the energy that permeated the area and trying to release all of her anger and all of her fear, for herself and for her friends. She did not try to shape the energy to her will, but rather imagined the outcome that she wanted, opened herself up as a conduit of sorts for the Force to work through, and beckoned.

The Force answered the call.

At first she wasn't aware of what was happening, then she heard a gasp from Jo, and her eyes opened to see a rushing tide of water sloughing over the land and making its way for their position. It was not a wave of blue, as she would have imagined, but darker and muddier, having picked up traces of silt and sand as it rushed forward. Ripples moved within the wave, bulges where the water was tumbling ahead of itself, though the entire thing seemed to hold a cohesive shape.

There was almost no time to react before the tide was upon them, but Zara managed to secure Drake and Corliss with the Force, though why she thought to keep the latter from harm she couldn't have said. Jo, Tully and Levy clung to each other and Zara extended her awareness to them, hoping to keep them _safe_, somehow.

The Shadow Guard. Her eyes closed when the tide of water came and she saw nothing more of him when they reopened.

Water struck her body, but it was only harsh for an instant; there was a coolness all around her, a gentle, almost playful tug at the edges of her _lekku_, and the Force spiraled around her, lending her strength. She kept a firm hold on Drake and Corliss to keep them from being washed away, too.

The entire incident didn't even last a minute, but when the water receded and left them all soaking wet and muddy, everything had changed. Corliss was on the ground, lightsabers rendered useless by the water, and immediately the others were standing over her, weapons extended and pointing at her head.

* * *

_The scene with the flooding wave of water was one I had in my head from the earliest days of this story. The town of Neried is based off of sleepy little coastal towns along the Gulf of Mexico, near my neck of the woods. _

_Thanks for reading!_

_FYI, I'm going out of town, and won't be updating this fic on Friday, 8/24. Updates will resume their normal schedule the following Friday, 8/31. Thank you for your patience. :)_

___Note: As my profile states, if you'd like to use any of my OCs, from this fic or any other, please ask me first. I'm really very open to others using my original characters, but since I own them, I'd like to be asked permission, first. Thanks._


	20. Burden

Song: "Crosses," by Zero 7, from the album _The Garden._

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: Burden**

_Don't you know that I'll be around to guide you,_

_Through your weakest moments to leave them behind you?_

_Returning nightmares, only shadows;_

_We'll cast some light and you'll be alright._

Elbows deep in mud and mire as she knelt on her hands, the first thought that breached Corliss' mind was not that she had been defeated. It was not that Priam was somehow just..._gone_, not that she had failed Antinnis once more, not that she herself would soon be killed.

No. It was an idle, strange observation that she was again meeting with Zara, and that she was – again – ending the encounter soaking wet.

Naturally, the presence of nearly half a dozen blasters around her head and the winking of steel blades at her throat brought her attention back to the moment; as someone reached forward to bind her hands with a set of cuffs, she blinked up into the sky, pale and heavy with clouds, before searching the faces for the one she recognized.

"What are you waiting for?" It was the blindfolded clone who spoke, his voice filled with anger. "End it." His head inclined slightly to the right, so Corliss tried to glance the same way, only to have the muzzle of another blaster pressed roughly against her cheek.

The blaster was held by the younger clone, the one she'd pushed away with the Force. Somehow she realized that this was the one that her psychometry had revealed when Zara had touched her on Humbarine. His eyes on her were narrowed, but she could feel the faint tremble of the weapon even as he held it to her skin. Aside from a rather uncomfortable heat, there were images that flowed to her from it, but she ignored all of it for now, instead darting her eyes to the clone that stood beside him; like the others he had a blaster trained on her, but it was rock-still.

Something sharp glinted at her throat and she shifted her gaze over to the Echani woman, whose silver eyes met her own without a trace of mercy. Instead, they flashed at her once, a spur of anger, then the Echani's expression smoothed and turned impassive.

The blindfolded clone spoke again. "Padawan..."

Despite the ring of metal burning against her cheek, Corliss turned her eyes to Zara, who was standing off to one side, watching the scene with an unreadable expression. The swell of power that had surrounded the Nautolan had faded, though Corliss could still sense its resonance, as if the Force itself was echoing within the blue-skinned young woman. She wondered if she should say something, then set the speculation aside, because the realization that she'd failed Antinnis suddenly filled her with remorse. Instead, Corliss lowered her eyes and looked away from her former friend.

And then the blasters were nudged aside and Zara was kneeling as well, leveling eyes that were dark and full upon her, which made Corliss feel strangely bare. Being in Zara's presence reminded her of the past, of the parts of her old life that she'd left behind, or tried to. It was unsettling.

"What have you become, Lissy?"

The words were barely a whisper, almost just a thought, but Corliss heard them anyway and noted the sorrow that was laced through the quiet syllables. She figured that the others did as well, for there was a hiss of disbelief from the older clone, and the two others exchanged uncertain looks. The Echani did not move. Nor did Zara. If Corliss hadn't known better, she would have thought that the other young woman wasn't even breathing.

"What I needed to be, Zara." Her reply was the same, but she was suddenly too tired to inject venom into her voice. An image of Alatea sprang before her mind, unbidden: her beloved friend and master's violet eyes were upon her, but they were blank and unseeing, and her pale hair was streaked with crimson blood. The cuffs that one of the clones had slapped on were cutting into her wrists, but she felt otherwise numb. "I did what I had to do to survive."

The Echani woman glanced at Zara but said nothing, but the younger clone who'd pressed the blaster to her cheek was not so silent. "Zar," he said in a careful voice. "Tully's right. She nearly killed you – twice. If you let her go, she'll keep hunting you, forever."

Zara nodded once but continued to kneel before Corliss. "That's true, isn't it?" There was hurt behind her words, tangible sorrow. There was also a hopeful kind of disbelief, as if she didn't want them any of this to be true.

Above them, the sky was darkening and the breeze had picked up, enough even to move the dripping edges of her hair. Was it true? Corliss looked down at the mud below her and closed her eyes.

Above her, the elder clone spoke once more. "This is ridiculous. She deserves to die for what she's done, and for what she's taken part in." Corliss felt her body shift as a boot nudged at her shoulder; anger and revulsion from the clone roiled off of him and surrounded her in thick swathes. She was engulfed in his sorrow, akin to a bone-deep wound that would not heal. "This..._filth_ is everything that's wrong with the galaxy. She's a murderer and a liar, and she deserves nothing better than a swift death."

"They're right," the Zeltron said suddenly, looking up at Zara. "I won't stop coming for you, Zara. And...I am murderer."

Alatea_._ Master Feróz.

Corliss hadn't been strong enough to protect them, then. She should have been strong enough_. _Her mind's eye was filled with Tremayne's smile, and she trembled at her failure and at the promises she'd broken throughout her life.

Anger welled within her, as she thought of what her current master would say if he could see her at this moment. Weak. She _was_ weak. She had failed him, and she deserved little better than what was being so freely offered with a heated, metallic press into her cheek. "Tremayne will kill me, anyway," she said with a frown, more to herself than anyone else. "So you may as well save him the trouble."

The emotions of the others at her words rippled between confusion, pity and – strongest of all – anger. Directed at her, it was nearly overwhelming, and she wondered how much of it was genuine and how much of it was merely a reflection of her own feelings. There was a flash of movement to her left and she glanced over to see one of the younger clones, the one who'd remained motionless as he'd held the blaster upon her, tuck his blaster under his arm and lift his hands in a few strange fluttering motions. Immediately, the other younger clone frowned. "We're a team, Lev. It's everyone's decision."

"No," the Echani said. "No, Drake. Levy's right. Her fate is in Zara's hands."

Before her, Zara continued to study the Zeltron, and Corliss realized that her former friend was actually debating the matter. Hope piqued within her, although in her mind's eye, Alatea's face twisted with fear as Antinnis' smile widened.

Tremayne's teachings trickled through her thoughts: _sometimes it is best to concede, Corliss. There is no shame in temporary submission, as I shall teach you. _

Alatea faded from her memory and she felt calm returning to her, breaking through the sharp bite of regret and self-pity. In the distance there was a faint drum-roll of thunder.

All was not lost, if Zara thought that she was anxious to mend her ways. But Corliss knew that she herself must believe that it was so, for her old friend would never believe what she didn't believe herself. It would be a fine line to walk, but Antinnis Tremayne had taught her well, and the young Zeltron had faith in her own abilities. Thus far they had served her well.

So Corliss met Zara's eyes and reached within herself to bring up every part of her that felt grief over her actions. No tears came to her eyes, for they wouldn't have been believed, anyway. Instead, she focused on allowing the emotions of remorse and fear rise to the surface and reach out to her former friend.

It was the last thing that she wanted, but Corliss willed herself to believe that the words were true. "End it, Zar. I'm a lost cause."

For a long time, no one spoke, then Zara shook her head, one small movement. "No," she said, keeping her eyes upon Corliss. "You're coming with us."

* * *

"No _kriffing_ way," Tully said in a voice so harsh that it made Levy wince. "Absolutely _not_. There's _no_ way I'm letting this...this Inquisitor _filth_ on the same ship as me, unless she's in pieces." As the words left his mouth there was a second, louder clap of thunder that streaked through the air, and a glance up showed Levy that the sky had darkened to an angry gray.

From his place between Zara and his brother, Drake shifted uneasily. "Zar...she's dangerous, and can't be trusted. Can't you see that?" Despite the fact that his words were steady, Levy could detect a faint, pleading edge to his tone.

_And you, Levy? What do you think? _The Padawan's voice in his mind was ringed with fatigue, and a glance showed him that her _lekku _were slumping as if she was exhausted.

He raised his hands so that they all could see. _Do you trust her, Zara? Not just with your life, but with all of ours?_ Drake nodded and looked at the Padawan as well while Jo whispered the words to Tully, who frowned.

Surprisingly, Corliss spoke next. "They're right, Zara. I'm not to be trusted."

"Nobody asked you, you piece of_ osik_," Tully snarled, lifting his boot again to shove her side.

"That's enough, Tully," Zara said at once, rising to her feet and facing the blindfolded clone. "I'm sorry that your wife is dead, but Corliss isn't the one who killed her, okay?"

Tully's mouth opened to reply, but Johari stepped between them, hands raised in a gesture of peace, though after a moment she placed the fingertips of her left hand on Tully's arm, speaking to him in a soft voice. "She's right, Tully. It wasn't the girl. Miriam is with my ancestors, now, and is at peace. Please calm yourself."

"Did Rand predict this?" he replied, waving his blaster towards the pink-skinned Zeltron. "Did he? 'Cause there's no other reason I can think of to explain why you seem _fine_ with letting a murderer onto the _Dance." _

"No," Johari said, shaking her head. "Atreus didn't say anything about...Corliss. But this isn't about him or his visions." At the words, Corliss seemed to shift in place, though she remained silent.

Tully blew out his breath through his nose and shook his head again. "Jo...I don't like this."

"I know," she replied in a warm tone. "Believe me, I know. But it is Zara's mission, remember? You and I...we're fulfilling our old roles, aren't we?"

"Supporting the Jedi," he said with a frown. "Great. Look where that got us last time." There was another, louder growl of thunder in the air, which caused everyone to start a little.

Finally Zara looked down at Corliss. "I don't trust you," she said in a quiet voice. Tully sighed and Drake nodded to himself; Levy and Jo exchanged glances and waited. "But," the Padawan went on as Corliss continued to look up at her. "I want to. I think I can, one day. Maybe."

"And in the meantime?" Perhaps the Zeltron had been attempting to school her features to smooth, but Levy noted the hope that was written across her face, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"In the meantime...in return for your life, you're going to help us," Zara finished, crossing her arms before her chest.

Drake frowned and shook his head even as light rain began to patter around them. "Zar..."

"Drake," she said, meeting his eyes. "Let me do this my way, please. Trust me?" Levy could see that much was passing between them that he was not privy to, and he again felt awkward, as he had on the _Spiral Dance_ earlier. Everyone knew of the change that had occurred between the Padawan and his brother, and although he was happy for them both, it felt like he was standing in a strange place, like each of his feet were balanced upon something precarious.

Now that they had each other, would either of them want anything to do with him?

He tried to swallow the bitter thought, as his attention was required on other things. Indeed, the Zeltron was glancing between the three of them, her brows knitted as if she was attempting to discern what they weren't saying. Thunder broke the sky again, and rain started to fall a little harder, splashing in the puddles of mud that the inexplicable flood had created. That was something else that Levy was curious about, but he figured now wasn't the time to ask Zara about it.

Johari cleared her throat and pulled the hood of her coat up over her face. "If we're in agreement, I suggest we head back to the ship and continue this discussion in a warmer, drier environment."

"Fine, but not without some more precautions," Tully said, reaching within his coat pocket and pulling out a set of binders that Levy recognized as Force-suppressing ones. ARCs, even former ones, were known for their preparedness, and he had to give a half-smile at the thought. Before anyone could comment, Tully leaned forward and snapped them next to the regular set that were already on the Zeltron's wrists, so that she was now bound with two sets of cuffs. "And Jo...you should search her as well," he added, stepping back as his coat grew darker with rain.

Corliss did not object to this, nor to the investigation of the Echani woman and Zara as the men turned their backs. After a moment, Levy and Drake moved off to bring the speeder, and Levy wondered how they were going to fit everyone inside the rickety thing.

After he'd communicated as much to Drake, his brother gave a snort of derision, and the sudden tension in his shoulders alerted Levy to the fact that he was trying not to turn around, most likely to make sure that Zara was okay. "Lev, that's pretty much the least of my concerns right now."

_Zara seems to think there's something worth saving in her, _Levy said.

Drake frowned and lifted his own hands to reply in kind. _Zar's heart is in the right place, but that girl is trouble. No doubt in my mind. How can anyone go from 'I'll kill you where you stand' to 'never mind, just finish me off' so quickly, unless they have an ulterior motive?_

_But Zar's not stupid, _Levy replied as they reached the speeder and Drake slid into the driver's seat. _And her instincts are usually dead-on._

"It's the 'dead' part of that sentence that worries me, _vod_," Drake said with a sigh as he started the vehicle.

Minutes later they'd reached the others, and there was some confusion while they tried to arrange everyone. Finally – at Tully's insistence and Corliss' acquiescence – the Zeltron was placed on the floor of the speeder, her weapons in Tully's coat-pocket, at the feet of Levy and the blindfolded clone, with Zara seated in the back as well. Jo and Drake sat up front, but Levy could see that his brother's eyes kept flicking back to Zara, whose gaze was fixed on the dark-armored young woman before her. Corliss kept her head ducked and her eyes on the floor.

Tully kept his blaster pressed to her ear with his finger hovering over the trigger, and would brook no discussion on the matter. It was agreed that they would drop everyone off at the ship to begin the preparations for the next phase of their journey, and then Drake would return the speeder to the vendor and make his way back to the hangar so they could depart. The trip back to Nereid was made in silence, save the choking whine of the speeder's engine, and the patter of rain on its surface.

* * *

With no small amount of effort, Drake kept his mouth shut as he dropped everyone off at the ship, though he did note with satisfaction how Tully made no attempt to ease the Inquisitor's passage aboard the _Spiral Dance; _he also did not miss how Zara frowned as Corliss stumbled, and seemed to check herself before she helped steady the other young woman as she walked up the ramp. Just before he turned to go he shot a look at Levy, hoping his brother would ensure that nothing happened to Zar while he was gone; much as he didn't like leaving, there really was no alternative, as they didn't want to have to explain to any of Nereid's citizens why they had a bound young Zeltron in their midst. Everyone would assume the worst.

The thought was depressingly ironic. Even though Corliss was the one who meant _them_ harm, it would probably be assumed by the locals that a young, cuffed female was a slave or something equally horrific. Drake watched in silence as Corliss was brought aboard the _Dance_, then turned and gunned the speeder back for the township.

The spaceport was set some ways away from Nereid proper, as most tourists didn't care to see massive ships hovering above their heads all the time. Of course it made his mission a bit harder, but as he felt the last of the rain fade away and watched the clouds clear, revealing the beginnings of a sunset, he tried to tell himself it would be okay.

On one hand, he really did want to trust Zar's instincts. She knew this girl, after all...they had that Jedi-bond that meant something special, from what he understood.

But even so, he would never forget the sight of the Inquisitor as she bore down on the young woman he loved, with every intent to kill.

Something crinkled in the seat beside him. A glance down showed the bundle of flowers that the flower-seller had given to Zara, wrapped in flimsi that was now fluttering in the wind of the speeder's passage. Now, they were crushed and tattered, many of the petals strewn across the floor of the vehicle where the bundle had apparently been tossed in Zara's efforts to fit everyone inside the speeder. For the most part, the flowers were destroyed, forgotten in the wake of other, more important things.

With this thought, Drake's carefully constructed feeling of 'okay' fled, as if it had tumbled from his heart and fallen beneath the speeder's path to the sodden ground below. Ahead of him, the township was in sight. Clenching his jaw and gunning the speeder as hard as it would go, he prayed that Zar's own heart wouldn't betray her, then thought that it was probably his job to make sure that didn't happen.

Someone had to look out for her.

Several minutes later he'd returned the speeder - he couldn't bring himself to do anything with the flowers, so he left them - and started to make his way back to the port through the marketplace, when a particular stall caught his eye. The vendor, an emerald-skinned female, was in the process of setting her wares away when he approached, fingering the few creds he had in his pocket. When she noticed him, the Nautolan's face broke into a broad grin, her dark eyes swirling with anticipation.

"How can I help you, young Human?"

He returned the smile as best he could, and indicated one of the glass-covered trays; moments later he was examining several pieces and soon he'd selected the one that he thought Zara would like best, despite the fact that he'd never picked out jewelry for anyone before. The vendor offered to wrap the bracelet, but he declined, instead placing it in his pocket and paying her a little more than was necessary. Before she could give him his change he'd slipped off, and began to hurry back to the ship.

It was a little thing, he knew. A trinket like this couldn't really change anything, or change the situation into one that he would have liked more. It certainly wouldn't protect the one he loved, but, he reasoned, it would probably make her smile, as the flowers had done. That thought alone was enough to make his own heart a bit lighter.

The realization made him chuckle out loud. Maybe there was something to the whole 'tranquility bracelet' thing after all. Perhaps he should have gotten one for himself, too.

* * *

It was very late and the Citadel was enveloped in silence, but Tremayne was restless. He'd been unable to sleep, so rather than spending the remaining hours of the night tossing and turning in his bed, he'd journeyed to one of the sparring rooms. Presently he was venting his frustrations upon a practice dummy, watching with satisfaction as it buckled beneath the touch of his fists and feet, and feeling the familiar burning in his muscles that accompanied such vigorous activity. There had been no word from Corliss, and as much as he didn't want to concede that she had failed, the possibility was growing large enough so that he could not look away.

He swept his body forward, throwing all of his weight behind the right-hook and feeling the padded dummy sway away from him, the suspended chain from a hook in the ceiling far above his head shivering with the impact. The room was dark and spare, save a few of the bags placed at intervals, and a smattering of low lights recessed into the floor, casting strange shadows throughout the area.

As he was about to direct another hit, his comlink chirruped; Tremayne narrowed his eyes at the familiar cadence and activated it after taking a moment to catch his breath. "Shadow Tor."

"High Inquisitor Tremayne," the Shadow Guard replied in his even voice. "I am calling to inform you that Acolyte Auset has defected to the Jedi Padawan and her companions."

The words hung in the air. It took Tremayne a moment too long to realize that the Guard had not said that Corliss was dead, which had – naturally – been his first thought. Finally he found words. "What happened?"

The Shadow Guard began to describe a battle of a sort, laughable in its simplicity, but resulting in the capture of Tremayne's apprentice and the escape of the Padawan. There was a pause, then the Shadow continued. "I witnessed her capture myself; the torrent of water that the Padawan summoned disabled me momentarily, but I regained my footing enough to see Cor – Acolyte Auset – willingly turn herself over to the Jedi and her companions."

Ah, so the Padawan summoned a torrent of water. Interesting, indeed. Another powerful Force-user was a wealth of untapped potential that could lead to very good things, provided he was careful. Tremayne nodded to himself, and exhaled in thought. "Your ship is intact?"

"This time."

Not pausing to wonder what the Shadow meant by that, Tremayne spoke again, fighting back the thrill of anger at the thought of Corliss' unexpected defection, particularly when it seemed that the other aspects of his plans had started to come to fruition, for he had not missed how the Shadow Guard nearly called Corliss by her name and not her title. "I have the means to track her, Shadow Tor. If she has indeed aligned herself with the Padawan-"

There was a pause, then the Guard replied. "I can follow her..."

"No," Tremayne said. "Wait for me. I shall find you, and we'll go together." As he ended the transmission, the thought occurred to him that Corliss was playing at some game of subterfuge, as it would have been what he would have advised. It was laughable on one hand, to think that Corliss could manage to work such a thing, but not out of the question.

No, he decided as he called a towel to his hand with the Force and headed back to his quarters. It was too unlikely that she was playing the same kind of game that he would have. Aside from being overly sentimental, Corliss was also a terrible liar, a fact that he'd witnessed firsthand on many occasions. He couldn't believe that she'd convince anyone of her trustworthiness when her heart was still _his. _Like all Zeltrons, she was too earnest.

At best, he reasoned, she had fallen victim to her own memories of kinship with the Jedi, memories he'd tried to replace with unfulfilled longing that was entirely in the present. The past had no place in the Emperor's New Order.

At worst...well, it had not been so hard for him to influence her three years ago, so he imagined that she would have been more easily swayed by a fellow Jedi. It was upsetting to think that his carefully-laid plans had all been for nothing, but then he reasoned that all was not lost. He would find her, and she would be with the other Padawan. It would take more skill, perhaps less patience and more force, but he was confident in his own abilities.

In the end, he decided that he'd worked too hard on the young Zeltron to let her slip out of his grasp now, and his steps quickened.

* * *

_See? Priam's fine. I know some of you were concerned. ;)_

_Okay, so Corliss had to come along with Zara and Co. because plot, so please let me know how well - or terribly - I managed to "sell" that particular incident. Tully was not happy about it, but - much to his annoyance - he does not have the deciding vote in these matters. Sometimes._

_Six chapters to go! _

_Thank you for reading, and please remember to leave a review and let me know what you think! :D_


	21. Chains

Song: "Spinning," by Zero 7, from the album _When It Falls. _You might have noticed that many of the songs for this fic come from that album...it's one of my very favorites, (and I don't say that lightly), so I recommend giving it a listen. :)

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: Chains**

_Was it loneliness that brought you here,_

_Broken and weak?_

_Was it tiredness that made you sleep?_

_Have you lost your will to speak?_

They were off once more, but to Zara it felt like she'd gone back in time.

After the others had showered and changed, she'd supervised Corliss so that the other girl could clean up as well; considering that the Zeltron was wearing two sets of cuffs, it had been awkward, but in the end they'd managed. Presently, Levy and Tully were at the helm and nav, respectively, while Jo and Drake sat with her and Corliss in the lounge. Johari had brought out bottles of water and for several minutes everyone sat in tense silence while they idly sipped at their drinks.

Zara and Drake sat beside one another against the farthest wall from the passage that led to the gunwell, while the Echani woman had pulled a bench loose from the wall and slid it across from them, back to the airlock; her legs were crossed and her arms rested against her folded knees as if she were relaxed, though Zara figured that she was ready to spring into action should the need arise. Corliss had been guided to one of the seats in the dining area so that her back was placed almost in the corner of the small room, effectively cutting her off from either the exit to the gunwell or the door that led to the cargo bay. Drake had put her there, and it had not been happenstance.

Now that she was clean and wearing a set of spare clothes, the Zeltron seemed more like the girl that Zara had known so long ago, though there was still a swirl of darkness around her. However, even beyond this, she was different in a way that was difficult for Zara to place as she studied her friend. It was like Corliss was muted, or closed-off. The anger and fear that Zara had sensed from her back on Glee Anselm had faded to calm collection, which was odd, to say the very least.

The Corliss Auset that Zara had known growing up had struggled to keep her emotions in check, even if they were to the detriment of her Jedi training, and Zara couldn't help but wonder at the fact that Corliss was holding back, somehow. Unless, the Padawan mused, training with the Inquisitors had managed to give her the sense of control that she'd been unable to find with the Jedi.

After several minutes of silence, Corliss glanced over at the blue-skinned young woman. "What are you doing running all over the galaxy that you need my help with?"

Beside her, Zara felt Drake stiffen, but she answered anyway. "We're searching for a Jedi artifact that was hidden by a Seer a few years ago." It was not the entire truth, but it was true enough. "Right now we're going to Eol Sha."

Corliss' brow furrowed and she shot a glance at Johari, who had taken to studying the fireworm scale though her eyes were unfocused as if her mind was parsecs away. Sensing she was under scrutiny, Jo blinked and straightened, setting the scale in her lap and giving the Zeltron an appraising look before she unfolded her legs and rose, crossing the lounge in a few steps and holding the scale up to Corliss. "What can you tell me about this?"

The pink-skinned young woman took the scale gingerly, the movement awkward because of the double layers of cuffs on her wrists, but she didn't comment on the matter; rather, her eyes closed and she ran her fingertips over the faint creases upon its surface, her face shifting into a look of pure concentration.

As she did so, Drake glanced at Zara. "Can she do her psychometry thing with the Force-suppressing cuffs?"

His tone suggested that he was not about to remove them; however, his words seemed to prompt Corliss to open her eyes and regard him with an amused expression. "A little. It'd be stronger if the cuffs were gone, but that's not likely to happen, is it?"

There was a trace of derision in her otherwise light tone, and Drake scowled and shoved his hand in his pocket as he replied. "Can you tell anything or not?"

Nodding, Corliss held up the scale in the dim light of the cabin, turning it this way and that and watching the translucent patterns swirl over the surface as she spoke. "He was a powerful Seer, wasn't he? I could tell that he was a Miralukan...about twenty eight standard years. Given that they can't 'see' as most beings do, the visions that I picked up were a little strange, but there is definitely _something _here."

Her eyes closed again as she tapped the scale with her index finger, as if considering how to phrase her words. It was a gesture that reminded Zara of their time at the Jedi Temple, as she'd seen her friend do such a thing on more than one occasion. "There is a nest...young creatures, still in their eggs – fireworms, perhaps – and because of this, they are vulnerable. The air is filled with heat, so much so that it's almost choking. Nearby, to the left, I can feel the heat of lava or liquid magma, and I can smell the earth burning all around...the air is thick and smoking."

As she spoke, she actually started to cough, though she continued after a moment. "But something's happening – an earthquake perhaps? – and the ground starts to shake, which makes...oh, the nest is compromised. I can hear that an egg has rolled free and..."

Suddenly, Corliss' eyes snapped open and fixed upon Johari, who was gaping at the young Zeltron even as she stood above her. "You," she whispered. "You saved the egg, didn't you? It was headed right for the lava...but you saved it. That was very..." She paused, then frowned. "Brave, I suppose. Or stupid."

At the mention of an egg, Johari had taken a step backward as if in disbelief. Drake looked between Corliss and the Echani woman. "Well? Is that true?"

"It is..." Jo put a hand to her forehead and winced, as if she were in pain. "The heat was so intense, I could hardly breathe. We were forced to make an emergency landing in a violent section of the planet, and had to fight one of the creatures almost immediately. Later on...we came across the empty nest and Atreus..." She trailed off and looked down. "Of course. I remember, now."

Both hands raised because of the cuffs, Corliss was holding up the scale as she examined it further, an earnest expression on her face. "The scales protect the babies while they're in the eggs, right? I think I remember learning something to that effect when I was younger." Unexpectedly, she smiled when Jo took the scale from her and nodded before returning to her seat.

When Corliss smiled – a true smile, not the feral sneer of one who dwelt in the Dark – Zara was struck by how much she resembled the Padawan from Coruscant, the fractious, temperamental but good-hearted girl that had been a dear friend. As if sensing her thoughts, Corliss glanced over at Zara and Drake, moving her eyes between them before she settled her gaze on the Padawan. However, before she could speak, Drake sat upright.

"Thanks for the help," he said in a curt voice, before he looked at Zara. "Where do you want to put her for the night?"

Of course Zara hadn't thought that far ahead, and she tried not to grimace as she glanced around the lounge in thought. "I can give up my room," she said after a moment, looking up at Drake and wincing internally at the look of disappointment that came over his face even as his hand reached to cover his pocket once more.

"No way. She's not a _guest_, Zar, she's a prisoner," he replied, shaking his head and glaring at the Zeltron, who was watching the exchange with unconcealed interest. He sighed and looked at Jo. "This would be a lot easier if you had a brig."

"Drake, we don't have any other options," Zara said. "If it's okay with Jo, I'll just bunk with her, and Corliss can be in my room. We can all take turns guarding outside the door, if it'll make you feel better."

Something she said caused him to scowl again, but he only nodded and looked away, getting to his feet and stepping towards the door. When he spoke again his voice was curt and overly professional, as if it were the Wars all over again, as if they had just met and he wasn't sure how to act around her; it was something she'd seen happen with the clones, especially the older ones, though she knew that Drake and his brothers were subject to similar mannerisms. Sometimes, in situations of high stress or copious uncertainty, the clones would revert back to their military training, almost like it was a default setting. "Fine. I'll go tell Lev and Tully the good news."

And just like that, it was as if they were strangers. And again, it was her fault.

Zara's face felt very warm and she realized that her hands were shaking, so she took a sip from her water to attempt and disguise how much his tone had upset her even as she got to her feet. After Zara called first watch, Jo said something about going to do some of her Echani exercises, and the silver-eyed woman slipped out of the room. As soon as she did, Zara realized that she didn't want to be alone, and several minutes later she was watching Corliss standing in the center of her cabin, glancing around with curiosity. Naturally, the Zeltron's eyes fell on the rumpled sheets of the bunk, which caused Zara's cheeks to heat up once more even though Corliss didn't say anything.

After a moment, Corliss leaned against the bulkhead and slid to the floor and closed her eyes, as if she were going to sleep. For a moment she looked...peaceful. Quiet. It was an expression that was so unlike her old friend, Zara made a noise of disbelief. One indigo eye opened and regarded her. "What?"

"You're so...calm," Zara said, shaking her head. "I can _feel _it radiating off of you, and it's just...strange. Especially since you were..." she fumbled over the word, here. "So angry on Humbarine, and again on Glee Anselm."

"It's still there, Zara," Corliss replied, opening both eyes and watching her. "It's still within me. The anger, I mean." She frowned and looked down at her bound wrists. "I know you want to, but you shouldn't trust me. You should listen to your lover."

At the word 'lover,' Zara felt her face darken again, so she gave a sigh and slid to her seat as well, leaning against the bulkhead in a way that mirrored the Zeltron seated across the room. Corliss blinked at her and frowned, tilting her head as she studied the Padawan. "He _is _your lover, isn't he?"

"Is it that obvious?"

Again, Corliss' smile transformed her face, though it faded quickly. "I have a sense about these things," she said. "All Zeltrons do, when it comes to matters of sexuality. The way that you acted around each other was a fair indication, for one thing. And the sheets..." She indicated the bunk and raised a brow. "I may be a psychometric Zeltron, but some things are clear enough on their own."

* * *

Zara's face darkened further still, and despite her own attempt at nonchalance, Corliss could sense the other young woman's mixture of arousal, embarrassment and bewilderment. The swirl of emotions that she could make out indicated that it was the Nautolan's first love, and Corliss leaned forward, careful to keep her expression neutral and open so that the conversation could continue and they could talk as friends.

As she did so, she realized that it had been years since she'd felt a similar way, and from what she remembered the "first love" experience was dizzying, almost addictive; for a moment she actually envied Zara. However, she made no indication of such and only gave the blue-skinned young woman a curious look. "It wasn't your first _time_, was it?"

The tips of the Nautolan's _lekku _were so dark, they could have been likened to Corliss' own blue-black hair, and Zara did not answer for a few moments; finally she gave a slow nod, which was followed by a shy smile. "It was."

"He was...nice to you?" She didn't know where the question had come from, but there it was.

"Drake is always...nice," Zara replied at once, sitting up straighter. "I mean, it was a little strange, I guess, but we..." She blushed again and dropped her eyes to her boots. "We figured it out."

Relief edged from her, and Corliss recognized the feeling after a moment as that of someone who was happy to just _talk. _Perhaps this might not be so difficult, then. She nodded and laced her fingers together, which was about all she could do given the cuffs. "That's good. My first time wasn't," she added almost as an afterthought. Zara lifted her eyes and frowned at her, so Corliss explained. "You remember Elegan, the Human Padawan from the Temple?"

"The one that started all those rumors about you?"

Corliss frowned at the memory, for it reminded her that things rarely worked out for her as she wanted. "Him, right. You remember how upset I got, after he told everyone about...us?"

Zara nodded. "But you said it was because you asked him not to."

"Sort of." It was Corliss' turn to toy with the edge of the boots they'd given her, which were a little too small, but weren't terribly uncomfortable. "I got upset because...it wasn't _nice_ at all. It wasn't special or anything like I'd imagined it would be, and when it was over...I felt _wrong_. Like I'd made a mistake, you know? So I asked him not to tell anyone because I just wanted to pretend it never happened."

This made Zara's eyes widen, and Corliss took a breath and clasped her hands together. It was not a pleasant story for her to tell, but it was necessary to do so, especially if she wanted to show Zara that she was vulnerable, too. Finding a common ground was an important step if she ever wanted her former friend to trust her again, of course, but there _was_ something else, some other reason that she wanted to sit and speak with Zara.

A part of her wondered if Antinnis would approve of her approach, but somehow he felt very small and far away right now, and she felt something else stirring within her as she looked at her former friend and thought of their shared past.

But despite all this, she had a mission, and she knew that if she were to return to Tremayne empty-handed, the punishment would likely be more than she would be able to endure. In her memory, he had not mistreated her, nor had he allowed others to do so, but Corliss had seen enough of how Prakith operated to know how quickly such a thing could change. As much as she didn't want to think that Antinnis would ever hurt her, she also knew full well that failure was not tolerated within the ranks of the Inquisitorius.

To strengthen her resolve, she called up some of the words that Tremayne had often said to her mind. _Even though they give you power, don't get distracted by your own emotions. Rule over your passion, Corliss. Don't let it rule you._

As if lamenting her own youthful foolishness, Corliss sighed and shook her head. "Of course, Elegan couldn't keep it to himself as I told him to, and all of the others looked at me differently, after they knew about us. Except you."

"I remember that," Zara replied, leaning forward. She opened her mouth as if to say more, then snapped it shut. Curious, Corliss raised a brow at her, causing the Nautolan to sigh. "You said that you loved him, then one day you just...didn't talk about him any more. And we started sneaking our meals out of the refectory to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, after that." A strange look came over her face as she made the connection. "I never knew what happened. I just thought you'd gotten tired of him or something."

Corliss knew that she shouldn't have replied. At the very least, she should have nodded and tried to appear to blink back tears at the bitter memory, but for some reason she spoke, and when she did her voice was soft against the hum of the ship's engines. "I know. It was what I wanted you to think."

"Lissy..." The sound of her childhood nickname was strange, but not grating. "Why?"

One question with a thousand meanings.

However, very likely Zara was speaking of the Inquisitorius, so Corliss tried to keep her calm, tried to keep her mission in her mind even as she hugged her knees to her chest and felt the cuffs start to cut into her wrists. "You don't know what it was like," she said at last, staring at the pale marks that were starting to appear beneath the cuffs as the skin was strained. "After the war ended, I mean. We – Alatea and I – were on the run for nearly two years. We were hunted like animals, Zar. We lived in constant terror of discovery or capture."

It hurt to say Alatea's name, almost as much as it hurt to think it, so she tried to move on. "Antinnis found us just after the stormtroopers did. He was looking for Jedi to convert,you see, but was too late to stop them from..." She shook her head and tried to force back the burning behind her eyes that was threatening to overwhelm her. "Alatea told me to run while she held the stormtroopers off, and I did. I shouldn't have, though. I should have stayed by her side until the end."

"And this Antinnis...took you, after?" Zara's voice was tentative, but Corliss had lost the ability to speak as her emotions took over, so she only nodded before dropping her head down and giving into the onslaught.

Neither of them spoke for some time until finally Corliss was able to collect herself and take a breath without hiccuping. When she looked up, Zara was still seated across from her, watching. As their eyes met, the Zeltron felt a gentle brush through the Force, against her mind. It was akin to someone trying to whisper in her ear across a broad room, but the meaning was clear: Zara was there, if she needed her. It was so unexpected, that Corliss had to drop her eyes again to avoid the Nautolan's dark gaze.

When she was able to speak again, she gave Zara a rueful look. "Now that I say the words out loud, it all sounds like something out of one of those awful holo-novels we used to read, doesn't it?"

"I don't think either one of us is a princess in hiding, Lissy."

Corliss smiled. "You never know, Zar. Anything's possible, isn't it?" At this, Zara gave a rather girlish laugh; for one moment the bulkheads that surrounded them on all sides turned to light-stained grass, the humming engines became the soft trickle of water, and they were someplace long ago and light years away.

* * *

After leaving the younger women, Johari had taken some time to perform some basic _karanas_ in the cargo bay to center herself, because more of her memories of Atreus had begun slipping in from the cracks within her mind as they solidified. As the foundation of movement, _kohia_ was the place where she started, and for a few moments Jo's body was still, hardly even lifting with her breath as she stood.

Gradually, she began to extend her hands and feet, and the pace of the memories increased. Although it felt like many of the scattered pieces of her past were falling back into place, she had no context for the images that her brain was producing: sometimes Atreus was laughing, while other times his mouth was drawn in a pensive line; there was the sensation of his hand on her hip, his fingertips lightly pulling her to him, then the feeling of his mouth on hers; even as Corliss had spoken of Eol Sha, Jo had heard someone whispering in his voice, _Johari. _The sound echoed within her to this moment.

Gritting her teeth against the unbidden onslaught, she extended her body into the movement of the Rising Sun, the posture that Miriam had favored the most: one leg thrust forward, the other angled back as the weight was evenly distributed; both arms extended above the head with palms touching. Gradually, she shifted her legs together and drew her arms down until her elbows were wrapped around her bent knees and her torso was folded over. Rising to balance on the balls of her feet, Jo completed the movement to that of Darkmoon, and tried to be at peace.

It was almost as if Atreus was sending her messages from beyond the veil, from that place between life and death. But that would mean...

No. She would not, could not believe it. Blinking hard, Johari straightened slowly, extended her torso and unbent her knees until she was in the starting position of _kohia_ once more. Atreus was alive, somehow, somewhere. She knew it. The moment that this mission was done, she knew that she had to find him.

There was no way that she could lose him, too.

"Mira," she whispered through closed eyes. "Forgive me."

With the thought of her sister, Johari returned to _kohia,_ and started the moving meditation once more.

Later, when she made her way to the cockpit, she found Drake and Levy in their familiar places at the helm and nav, while Tully was standing behind them, elbows resting on either chair and head ducked. There was a mixture of hushed conversation and fluttering hand signals passing between the three clones, and for a moment she felt pleased at the sight of her brother-in-law so engrossed with the younger set. Very often on their travels through the galaxy, both with Atreus and Miriam, and without them, Jo had gotten the sense that Tully missed being around other Fett clones. Despite his abrasive nature, she could hear the undercurrent of fondness in his voice when he spoke to either of the young men, which helped set her at ease.

Of course, Tully had heard her enter the cockpit immediately, but it was Levy who inclined his head in the Echani woman's direction, his chin tilting up in a gesture both of greeting and summoning. At her approach, Tully shifted over behind Drake's chair, allowing her to stand beside the nav. "How much longer until we reach Eol Sha?"

Drake indicated the blue spiraling stars ahead of them as the _Dance _slid through hyperspace. "A few hours. We weren't that far away, luckily, and I know a shortcut."

At this, Levy gave him a curious glance and lifted his hands to form his question. _Shortcut?_

Since Tully couldn't discern Levy's hand movements, Drake repeated the word, furrowing his brow as he did so. "It was something Ares told me about, once. There's a nebula that almost surrounds the entire planet – very few travelers make their way through it because of its instability – and most people take the long way around to reach the surface. But with a little finesse..."

"What kind of instability are we talking about, here?" Tully asked with a frown.

"The area used to house a mining colony to extract the thorarin gas that's found in large quantities there," Drake replied. "But it was abandoned during the Wars. From what Ares said, the gas makes the area pretty finicky; there are a lot of gravitational anomalies that make the nebula difficult to steer a ship through. However, with a good enough pilot at the helm..."

Tully did not appear to be convinced. "You saying you're an ace now, kid?"

"I'm saying I'm better than the average pilot," Drake replied with a frown. "It's not arrogance...it's a fact. You know that our reflexes are better, Tully. Besides all the time I spent training with Ares and Trax, I did tons of flight simulations on Kamino. They were going to assign me to lead a starfighter squad before-" He paused and shook his head, the motion reminding Jo of one who was trying to shuffle some memory to the back of their mind.

There was quiet for a few minutes before Drake glanced at Jo's reflection in the viewscreen. "How's...how is everything back there?"

She thought of Zara's expression as he'd hurried out of the room earlier, and of the strange, almost-cowed appearance of the Zeltron girl. "They were both in Zara's room, last time I checked. With Corliss' help, I was able to remember the location where Atreus and I hid the next clue."

Drake only nodded as she gave him the coordinates, but she could read the tension even in the small gesture. After several more minutes passed, she cleared her throat. "Why don't you both rest? I can handle things until we reach the...what was the name of the nebula?"

"Cauldron Nebula," Drake said. "And it's okay. I'm fine."

Tully snorted. "That's a lie. I can hear it in your voice, _vod. _Stop being a stubborn _di'kut_ and get some shut-eye." Drake opened his mouth to protest but Tully cut him off with another bout of sarcasm. "If it would make it easier, I can order you. We ARCs outrank you lowly CC units, you know. Don't worry...we'll wake you up in plenty of time to do your 'better than average' piloting."

There was a moment where Jo thought that the younger clone would argue, but at last he sighed and shrugged, sliding out of his seat. Levy moved to take his place, but Drake shot him a look first. "You need rest, too?"

Levy replied, but the movement of his hands was too fast for even Jo to discern, and the words were rendered unfamiliar. However, Drake seemed to understand, clasping his brother's shoulder once before slipping out of the cockpit. Johari took a seat at the nav and ran her eyes over the console before looking at Levy, whose gaze was rigid on the stars outside.

"Are you okay?"

He started at her words, then nodded quickly, flashing her a brief smile and leaning back into the chair with what seemed like forced nonchalance. A few minutes later, Tully slipped off as well, muttering something about cleaning his weapons – which Jo figured may or may not have been a euphemism – and she and Levy were alone.

For some time it was quiet, save for the humming engines and the occasional beep from the console, and Jo found that she was tired. Perhaps she should have taken her own advice about getting some rest, but the padded chair of the _Spiral Dance _was familiar, and she felt rather relaxed after her _karanas, _so she closed her eyes – just for a moment.

She had no idea how long she was asleep, but when she awoke again, nothing had changed except for Levy, who was watching her with an expression she'd not seen on a man as he looked at her in longer than she could recall. The moment he realized she was awake he flushed and turned back to the console, pretending to adjust something.

As a Miralukan, Atreus didn't have 'eyes' as most Humans knew of them, so when he had looked at Jo, it was a bit different. However, she recognized the longing in the clone's gaze, and knew that it had to be addressed. With this thought, Jo sat up and blinked a few times, then cleared her throat. "Levy..."

If it was possible, his face reddened further still, and his hands tightened over the steering column, but despite the tone of her voice he met her eyes bravely. Jo took a breath and continued. "I find that I like you very much, but I'm not...whole right now. There are parts of my life that I'm still trying to work out, and until I do..." She paused, Atreus' jovial face coming to her mind once more. So many of the memories had returned, but it still felt like a few crucial ones were missing. Had he ever looked at her that way? Had he loved her as she loved him? "I'm afraid I'm not...looking for anyone. Does that make sense?"

For some moments he made no reply, then he nodded once. She watched as his grip on the column did not relax, and he did not make a move to reply to her, only continued staring at the stars beyond. "I'm sorry," she added in a soft voice. "I know that may not mean much, but I am. You seem...quite nice."

A smile, wry and only a little pained, crossed his face as he shrugged, then glanced at her with a raised brow and nodded to his hands. Her head tilted in consideration of his movements. "You would reply, but your hands are otherwise engaged?"

The smile became genuine, and was accompanied by another nod. Jo watched as his fingers relaxed and she leaned back into the chair once more with a sigh; moments later he did the same, and they continued to journey in silence.

* * *

As he did with many tricky situations in his life, Levy thought about what Weave's reaction would be, and tried to approximate it as best he could. Event though his face was still hot from when Jo had woken up and caught him staring at her like a _di'kut_, he tried to act as though it had not bothered him so much. The young Echani woman seemed...afraid. There was an uncertainty to her voice and mannerisms, and he realized that he'd been silly to even think that she would look at him in a similar way, especially right now.

Crushing on someone who was missing bits of her memory – particularly memories about her last lover, who happened to be MIA – was _not_ a wise move. Of course he knew this, so Levy resolved to just keep his mind on the mission at hand and forget about the way that her silver eyes had looked back at him, and how they seemed tinted blue by hyperspace, or how her skin was smooth and pale, and glowed with starlight. It was fine, it was more than fine; she didn't want him, so he kept his eyes ahead and urged his mind to think of other things.

It worked for a little while.

The Echani had fallen asleep again, head lolling to her shoulder and lips slightly parted. Save for a strange beeping from the nav before her, everything was quiet.

A beeping from the nav?

Levy peered over at her console and cursed inwardly at the sensor readout. Since he couldn't get on the ship's comm like Tully, he slammed his hand down on the general alarm and hurried to adjust their course. Instantly, the cabin filled with shrieking klaxon and hazy, red light; Jo bolted upright while Drake and Tully came hurrying in moments later, his brother scrubbing at his face in his fashion when he was awakened in a hurry.

"Lev..."

But Levy had no time to respond as his hands danced over the helm and the ship staggered out of hyperspace not a moment too soon.

It was not called the Cauldron Nebula for nothing. Seven blue stars, giants in their own right, shimmered in the distance, surrounded by clouds of fuschia, orange and saffron gases that appeared to boil up from a great black void below like plumes of steam billowing out of a container. He could barely make out their destination, a small speck to his left, but that wasn't Levy's main concern as the _Spiral Dance _was buffeted and rocked by the swirl of unstable gravitational eddies in the area. The entire ship shuddered, as if the outside environment was attempting to rip it apart, and it was all he could do to keep his seat. The realization occurred to him that if he lifted his hands, the ship would most certainly spin out of control, and he grimaced as his palms started to sweat.

"Everyone strap in," Drake shouted, then slammed his hand against the ship's comm. "Zar...buckle up, okay?" Before she could reply he lifted his hand and looked at Levy. "It's too risky to try and switch out right now, so you're going to have to take us out of here. You can do this, _vod. _I know you can. Hey, Jo?"

The slender, silver-eyed woman had managed to get out of the nav seat and make her way to the bulkhead beside Tully, who was in the process of strapping himself down to a chair; the ship shuddered again and she fell against the elder clone, who caught her neatly and set her on the chair beside him.

But all of this happened in the periphery of Levy's attention, as most of his focus was on the ship and the nebula. Everything was jolted so much it was hard to see straight, and his jaw was starting to hurt from the rattling motion of his teeth. The _Spiral Dance _groaned, as if it was fighting the onslaught of opposing gravitational fields, and Levy realized how much he hated the sound of metal that was trying to tear itself apart. Drake slid in the nav and glanced at the console. "I'm entering the coordinates that we'll need for Eol Sha," he shouted through the din. "This might just be a rough patch of space within the nebula...if we can break free, we should be okay."

There was a faintly sarcastic edge to Drake's voice on the word 'should,' and Levy remembered how much he hated that kriffing Levy nodded and angled the ship as best he could in the direction that Drake had indicated, hoping that the ship would keep itself together before they reached their destination. For several minutes it seemed as if the _Dance _truly would break apart; as it was, he noticed one of the engines start to overheat with the exertion of keeping the ship stable, and knew that landing – when and if they could, anyway – would be interesting.

"There!" Jo's voice rang out above the scream of the ship. "Eol Sha..."

It was true. They were close, so close. Beside him, Drake kept murmuring encouraging words and he thought that he heard Tully offer a few of his own. Johari said nothing else, but he felt her eyes on his back. Levy's hands were slick with sweat and he felt it beading down the sides of his nose with the effort he was making to keep the ship on course.

Just a little more...

The overheated engine was straining to its fullest now. It would only be a matter of seconds before it shut down. Out of the corner of his eye, Levy watched Drake's hands flying over the nav until he gave a shout of triumph. "Got a landing site. We should reach it in seconds."

Levy hoped it'd be enough. Eol Sha was right beside the nebula's edge; he could see the trailing gas clouds as they reached the planet's atmosphere until finally, finally they broke through and he felt the shuddering halt, heard the groaning cease.

Only to be replaced by a screaming alarm that indicated the left engine was overheated and the safety protocols were about to shut it down automatically. Levy gritted his teeth as they approached the landing site, trying not to think about how landing with one engine was going to be more fun than a crate of Kowakian monkey-lizards. Below him, he could see little besides gray, smoldering rock interspersed with ribbons the color of flame.

"That plateau..." Drake whispered, pointing. "Try to land there. It's even near the site of Jo's coordinates."

Nodding, Levy angled the _Dance _for the relatively smooth area of landmass before them, just as the engine went offline and the entire ship lurched to one side, barely skimming the jagged out-thrust of a mountain peak as they swooped down. Every iota of Levy's focus tunneled on the landing site, and he allowed all other things to fall away as he urged the ship forward, finally releasing a breath when it settled onto solid ground at last.

It was not until they were still and stable that Levy was able to unclench his hands from the steering column , then the others were gathered around, laughing and hugging him – even Tully slapped his back with something like affection. At some point Zara had made her way to the cockpit; she kissed his cheek and grinned at him, a look that he was able to somehow return.

After this there were a few moments of adrenaline-fueled conversation before they decided to disembark; a look at the engine showed Levy that the ship would need the better part of an hour to for the engines to cool down enough to come back online.

"Guess we have nothing better to do than take a bit of recon," Tully said, though his tone was unusually light.

As they gathered at the _Spiral Dance_'s hatch, Levy noticed that Zara slipped off towards her cabin, returning moments later with a fully-armored Corliss at her heels, though the twin sets of cuffs were still in place on her wrists. Immediately, Drake scowled, though Levy noticed that he tried to hide the expression. "What's she doing here?"

"Making myself useful." Corliss' voice was calm and she met Drake's eyes as she spoke.

Zara cleared her throat. "That's the whole reason we brought her along, isn't it?"

Recalling the way that Zara had looked at her old friend, with eyes full of hope, Levy thought that perhaps it wasn't the _whole_ reason, but kept his observation to himself.

"Anyway, she's still bound," Zara added as Tully activated the hatch and it began to open; she and Drake exchanged one long look as the hydraulics hissed and the cabin filled with dim, glowing light. Levy felt his stomach do an interesting flip, and he patted his pocket where the holo-cam was, thinking that maybe he could get a few pictures, if this place was calmer than the last few planets.

Johari stepped off first, followed by Tully; Zara and Corliss went next, then Drake and Levy last. Initially, all that Levy was aware of was heat, thick and acrid in his lungs, then the overpowering scent of sulfur and steam. He started sweating immediately, and glanced around at the landscape, or what there was of it.

Mountains filled the horizon: tall, jagged things in varying shades of gray and black basalt below a watery, yellow sky. He couldn't see a sun, but there was a shock of orange and red above the mountains that he figured was the Cauldron Nebula. The plateau they had landed upon was sprinkled with pools of crusting, yellow-green liquid that seemed to simmer and hiss, the fumes that emanated from them at least let Levy know where the stench was coming from. Beyond their position, well below them, he could make out what appeared to be rivers of magma coiling between outcroppings of rock. The foul steam was everywhere, obscuring much of his field of vision and slithering into his lungs.

The others were several paces away, talking. Levy reached for the holo-cam and stepped towards the edge of the precipice, wondering if the lava would show up in the dim light. Several small stones clattered to the ground below as he raised the cam and squinted through the viewfinder, trying to get a clear shot of the smoldering landscape.

Suddenly, his entire field of vision was distorted by something very large and dark, something that let out a throaty sort of scream. Levy lowered the cam and looked up and up and up, his mouth falling open as the massive fireworm uncoiled itself from the precipice beneath his feet and turned its gaze upon him.

* * *

_Another cliffhanger! I hope I'm not abusing the privilege..._

_So, there are 25 chapters total in this fic...five more to go. :)  
_

_Please let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!_


	22. Burn At Both Ends

Song: "You're My Flame," by Zero 7, from the album _The Garden._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: Burn At Both Ends**

_Now you're sitting sure, yes, in an old tree,  
You've tied our legs, and so now we have three;  
You dip your toes into the ice cold sea,  
I see your reflection, your reflection is me._

Even with the Force-binders at her wrists, Corliss felt the approach of something dangerous while the others were standing around speaking. However, before she could say anything, there was a horrendous, otherworldly screaming sound from several meters away, and everyone turned to see the young clone – she heard him named Levy – being dwarfed by a massive, serpentine creature that she assumed was a fireworm.

Perhaps in true sunlight the fireworm would have been crimson, with opalescence shot through its body, but in the muted light of the Eol Sha afternoon it looked dark, with a blackness that gleamed and reminded her of the ultrachrome armor that she was pleased to have reclaimed. Large scales covered its entire body, and its head was arrow-shaped, like a viper, and covered with thick ridges of scales that offered protection, with larger ones fanning out past its eyes to curve upwards towards the back of its head. It undulated as it moved, raising itself up from a rift in the precipice below Levy's feet and angling its head down to face the young clone, who had rolled aside in an instant, righting himself about two meters away from his initial location and raising his blaster.

But it was plain to see that the weapon would do little good against the armored monstrosity, and Corliss idly wondered if even her lightsabers would have any affect, though she figured that a point-blank assault would be the most effective way to take down the creature. A quick glance confirmed that Zara had taken her saber and _shoto_, and wore them at her belt beside her own.

Another choking shriek escaped the fireworm, and the sound bounced off of the rocks all around them, causing bits of pebble and stone to clatter around her boots.

"Holy kriffing hell," the blind clone shouted, his head turned towards the source of the noise. "That's a fireworm, isn't it?"

His words snapped the others into motion: Drake called out a series of commands, and he and the blind clone immediately leaped forward to assist their comrade; the Echani woman drew her song-steel blades and darted forward as well, though she did not make for the creature's front, as the clones did, instead rushing for its side.

Zara glanced at Corliss. "Stay here." And then she, too, sprang away.

For a moment Corliss did so; she watched the clones attempt to draw the ire of the creature with their blasters and keep its focus upon them while the Padawan and the Antarian Ranger made to attack its underside, which was another logical place to begin. But from her vantage point, Corliss could see that the fireworm's scaly armor was thick, even on its belly, and she realized that their attack would serve little purpose save to get someone killed.

Indeed, the creature lunged for Levy, who was still the closest to its head; there was no sound as he darted away, but when the fireworm's head lifted there was a nasty gash along his side where either tooth or razor-edged scale had penetrated his skin.

_Razor-edged scale._

Corliss glanced down and realized that the Echani woman had in fact dropped the scale that she'd been toying with since Glee Anselm, the one that had provided such a vivid psychometric reading; immediately, Corliss bent and began to maneuver the Force-binders over the sharpest ridge as quickly as she could, ignoring the scream of the creature or the frantic shouting of the others. There was a _snap-hiss_ as Zara ignited her saber, and Corliss felt her own sense of anxiety spike, because the stupid cuffs just _wouldn't_ give way, even though she remembered from her training with Antinnis that this type was unable to withstand constant abrasion like that of the sharp-edge scale, and because she knew that time was growing shorter by the second...

_Finally_, she felt the center section of the binders give way, and her hands were free of the Force-restraints. The other set..well, Antinnis had also taken the time to ensure that she could fight bound just as well as she could free, so they were of little concern. With keen delight, Corliss gathered the Force to her, feeling it crackling through her veins once more; she couldn't help but smile even as she launched herself forward towards the group.

* * *

From his place beside Tully, Drake was shouting directions to the elder clone and trying to give Levy a chance to get away from the kriffing fireworm, while watching Zara and Jo attempt their own attack at the belly of the beast.

It was not going well.

None of their weapons seemed to have any affect on the monster, and he was starting to think that perhaps the Force had not been with them, after all. Zara lunged, thrusting her saber towards what appeared to be a chink in the armor of the creature – an open section between the scaled plating – but the beam of plasma bounced harmlessly off of the area. Jo's blades had the same result, and it seemed to shake off the blaster fire like an annoying insect.

Nope, not going well at all.

The fireworm's head tilted down as it prepared itself to attack Levy again, who was clutching his side and trying to limp away even as his shirt was stained with red. Fighting back his anxiety for his brother, Drake glanced at Tully.

"Five degrees up and eight to the left – we're going for the eyes."

Tully was coated with sweat, but his feet were planted and his brow was furrowed with determination. "Say the word, _vod._"

"Hang on, Lev," Drake called out. He raised his blaster and prepared to fire upon the creature's eyes, the only place where it appeared not to have any armor; Zara and Jo had switched tactics and were now trying to follow the clones' lead, and for a few moments the entire group was focused solely on the attempt.

So it was completely unexpected to see the dark-haired Zeltron girl catapult herself through their midst, calling her lightsabers to her hands – which were somehow free of the Force-binders – as she did so, and then leap up to the fireworm's head. She landed on top of its spine just behind the scaled ridge that fanned out from behind its eyes; both of her sabers ignited at once before she plunged them down right in front of her position, so that about half of the blades' lengths were embedded within the fireworm itself. The creature keened and bucked, its head turning to snap at the _thing_ that had struck it, but even as it did so, the Inquisitor buried the red plasma to their hilts within its skull.

The keen turned into a wail, and the massive creature began to spasm as its body fought to stave off death. Its head dropped again, closer, giving a clearer shot of the eyes, so Drake shook himself out of his shock and shouted directions at Tully. They fired. The fireworm let out another shriek, one that sliced through Drake's attention and caused his head to ache. Zara and Jo leaped forward as well, the latter plunging her twin steel blades into the creature's open mouth, eliciting another horrendous scream as its head continued to drop.

Finally it was down, its body still writhing. Zara had joined Corliss and pushed her own saber through the creature's skull while Drake, Levy and Tully continued firing.

Just as suddenly as the attack had begun, it was over. The area was still and silent.

Drake was torn between going for Zara or Levy. The Padawan and the Inquisitor agent were clambering down from the creature's head but his brother was on the ground about ten meters away, back to the closest sulfur pool, the crimson stain at his side broadening with each passing moment. As Drake was making the decision to help his brother, Jo reached the younger clone first, sheathing her blades and kneeling at his side; Tully and Drake followed a moment later.

"Zar!" Drake called her over as he approached Levy, who seemed – if anything – embarrassed by all the attention, though Drake noticed that he appeared to be deliberately looking away from the Echani woman. But he didn't care about any of that, only that Zara needed to come _on_ and do her healing-tricks on his brother. Even as he knelt with Jo and tried to support Levy upright, he twisted around to find the blue-skinned girl. "Zara..."

"I'm right here," she replied, and she was suddenly crouching beside Jo, who had pressed her own hands against the wound at Levy's side to staunch the flow of blood from where the fireworm had wounded him with tooth or scale. Moments later they had Levy's jacket and shirt off and the Nautolan was working over him, and Drake felt a surge of relief when the worst of the cut started to smooth over as Zara's face closed with concentration. He took a shuddering breath and clasped Lev's shoulder as if for support.

Levy glanced at him and lifted a brow, the expression on his face seemed to say _calm down, will you? _

"I know, just a scratch, eh _vod_?" Drake muttered, though he couldn't help smile as Levy rolled his eyes.

Once it became apparent that Levy was out of danger, Drake glanced up and noticed that Corliss was not in sight. The revelation caused him to feel a thrill of alarm, particularly when he recalled that she'd somehow managed to slip out of the Force-binders and get a hold of her sabers again. Rising from his crouch, he scanned the surrounding area only to see her near the place where Levy had been standing when the fireworm had ambushed them. She was kneeling, eyes closed, a look of concentration on her face, and he realized after a moment that her arms were outstretched and that a small object was hovering to her hands.

When the holo-cam was in her grasp she rose and made her way back to them. He kept his eyes on her and she seemed to notice, though she made no acknowledgment of the fact other than a slight nod. "Here," she said, holding out the cam to Levy, who looked up at her in surprise. "You dropped this. You don't have to thank me," she added, lifting a brow.

Zara had done all she could to speed Levy's healing along, and was currently wrapping what remained of the wound with items from her med-kit. As she did so, she looked up at Corliss and gave her a nod. "Thanks for the help."

"How'd you get out of the cuffs?" Drake said, eyes narrowing.

The Zeltron seemed to consider him for a moment before she replied, holding up her hands, which were still bound by the normal set of cuffs. "The Force-suppressing binders are notoriously weak at their joints, and the fireworm scales are rather sharp, as Levy found out," she said, nodding to the clone. "I found one on the ground over there and made use of it."

At this, Johari frowned and looked over, then her eyes widened and she got that look on her face that told Drake she was having another flashback or something. Zara noticed it too even as she was murmuring to Levy to hold still; she glanced up at the Echani woman and frowned. "Jo?"

"A nest...we need to find a fireworm nest," Johari said, putting a hand to her forehead. "That's where Atreus and I hid the next clue. I remember...it was in this area, but I'm not sure exactly."

At this, Levy raised his hands and began to 'speak.' _Then you should take a look over that precipice. I got a glimpse of something right before that thing came out. _He glanced up at the Echani, who gave him a grateful smile; Drake didn't miss how his brother's cheeks flushed a bit and how he looked back down at his left arm.

Assisted by Drake and Jo, Levy was able to get to his feet, and he directed them to the location he was referring to, Zara and Corliss walking ahead. Tully remained behind the group, though Drake figured that he was paying attention to every word that was being said.

They reached the ledge and Levy pointed down, towards the right. At first Drake didn't see anything, and he shot his brother a dubious glance, though after a moment Johari stiffened and leaned forward, sliding out from Levy's shoulder to kneel down and get a better look. "He's right," she said after a moment. "I can see a nest of some kind."

The others crowded around her, and after a few more moments of confusion, Drake saw what she was indicating. About thirty meters below them he could make out more scrabbles of rock, as well as a slender flow of lava that added a bright patch of saffron to the otherwise colorless landscape. Close by the lava was an oblong area, surrounded with what appeared to be fireworm scales, in the center of which were about half a dozen eggs. The nest itself was rather close to the lava, and Drake wondered at the reason.

"Anyone care to explain what we're looking at?" Tully asked in a dry voice, so Jo began to describe the area to him while the others continued to look.

Beside him, he felt Zara stiffen, then watched as she glanced back at the body of the dead fireworm, a pain expression coming over her face. "Did we...did we just kill their parent?"

"It attacked one of your own," Corliss replied with a shrug. "You had no other choice but to defend yourselves."

As much as he hated to agree with the Zeltron, Drake found that he shared the sentiment; still, he could see that Zara was upset, and so he reached out to give her hand a squeeze. In return, she gave him a quiet smile and his heart felt a little lighter.

"Either way, what's done is done," Tully said, reaching into his pack and pulling out a grappling hook. "So, I'm assuming that we need to get down there?" His pragmatic words seemed to spur the others into action, and moments later they were making preparations to descend.

Drake looked at Levy, whom he was still supporting. Before he could say anything, his brother gave a sigh and grimaced as he lifted his hands. _I know, I know. Not the best idea for me to jump around with what's left of this wound, so I'll keep watch up here. Guess someone should stay by the ship, anyway. _Though there could be no 'tone of voice' that accompanied the words, Drake could detect a certain sense of remorse in his brother's gesture.

After a moment's thought he glanced over at Zara, standing at the edge with the others as Tully and Jo checked the line, and motioned for her to come over. When she approached, he indicated the ship and the fireworm. "Levy and I are going to hang back and keep an eye on things up here while the rest of you search for the next clue."

She made no reply at first, just looked from one clone to the other before nodding once, though Drake thought that she seemed uneasy with the idea. However, after a moment she gave him another small smile, one that made him return the look, and then – unexpectedly – leaned forward to give him a swift kiss on the mouth. "Stay safe, both of you," she said with a pointed look at Levy. "And keep me updated if anything happens. Hopefully we'll be back soon."

As she turned to go, Drake cast another look beyond her, at the slender Zeltron girl who was watching the exchange with an expression that he couldn't read. "Zar," he said, placing a hand on her arm. She turned to look at him and he was again struck by the intensity of his feelings for her, which he let through his barrier for just a moment, just so she could _know, _again. He watched her eyes widen, watched how the expression was accompanied by a dark and graceful sweep of a blush through her _lekku _as he added: "Be careful."

* * *

Johari had never had an outright fear of heights, but there was something decidedly unnerving about the idea of being suspended about fifty meters above a river of lava with only a slender, fibercord filament keeping her from plummeting to certain death. In his fashion, Tully had insisted on going first, despite her protests that he couldn't see his way to the bottom. "Exactly," he'd replied in his smug manner. "Which means I can't see how high I am, which means I won't get all nervy like you do."

"I don't get..." She had sighed and blown out a breath of frustration when she noticed the younger women watching the exchange with curiosity.

So Tully, after getting a bit of explanation as to the general layout of the place into which he was heading, clipped his belt to the fibercord grappling hook they'd secured at their feet and began to descend, his head pointed down as he listened for danger. Zara and the other girl – Jo was still having a difficult time figuring out how to even think of her – were peering over the edge, and the Echani woman got the sense that the Padawan was using the Force to search for any potential danger around Tully's position. Since no one was familiar with fireworms, they didn't know if they'd killed the mother, the father, or another creature entirely, or if there were any more around. However, now that the Force-users were aware of their existence, Jo hoped that they'd be able to sense any other local fauna that chose to appear.

Of the two younger women, she had absolute faith in Zara's abilities. Atreus' vision aside, Zara had proven her skill and her dedication to Jo several times over during the course of their adventures. The other, the Zeltron...she was the unknown element. While Johari harbored her own misgivings, she realized that she ultimately trusted the young Jedi's judgment on the matter, even though the girl – Corliss – made her uneasy.

"I'll go, next," Zara said, stepping forward, though she glanced over at the Zeltron and raised a brow. "I didn't ask...can you climb with those cuffs? It looked like you could fight well enough with them."

Corliss nodded, then, almost as an afterthought, unclipped her lightsabers from her belt, one after another, and handed them to the Padawan. "I'm sorry I had to steal them," she said as Zara frowned down at the hilts. "But I couldn't just stand there and let your people face that creature alone."

_That _had been unexpected, but not – Jo had to reluctantly admit – unwelcome. They might not have walked away from the sudden encounter with the native creature had the Zeltron not stepped in. But still. Something did not sit well within Jo's gut. She'd watched Corliss carefully, searching for any physical signs of subversion or dissembling, but had found nothing so far that would indicate that the young woman was being anything but truthful.

Maybe she really did want to change her ways.

Jo frowned at the sentiment. It was fanciful and idealistic, and even at barely a quarter of a century, she had seen too much of life to believe that things could work out in that fashion.

"Take them," Corliss said as Zara remained motionless, still eying the sabers. She met the Padawan's eyes and gave a small frown. "I mean it, Zar...please."

Finally the Nautolan nodded and accepted the sabers, clipping them to her belt before glancing at Jo. "Send her after me, will you?"

Johari nodded; she and Corliss both watched as Zara seemed to gather her strength for a moment before making a graceful leap over the edge of the precipice, the movement aided by the Force. Once she was out of earshot, Johari looked at the Zeltron girl. However, before she could speak, Corliss did. "You don't trust me. Well," she added, shaking her head. "I suppose you don't have any reason to trust me, do you? To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I trust myself, either."

"Why did you turn yourself in?" Jo asked. "Is it because you lost the fight on Glee Anselm?"

A strange look came across Corliss' face, one that seemed to Jo as if it was filled with pride, though it faded into a smooth expression. "Partly. But seeing Zara again reminded me of all the things of my old life, the things that I've lost."

She frowned and looked at her bound wrists before glancing up at Jo, who felt a thrill of sorrow for the girl, unbidden. A moment's reflection indicated that it wasn't her own emotion she felt, but rather a response to the feelings that the Zeltron was likely projecting. The notion was unsettling, but Jo was able to set the emotion aside as Corliss continued, seemingly heedless of the effect she had on the Echani woman. "I never...I never intended to get caught up with the Empire. But I had to survive, somehow. Surely you can understand that?"

"I suppose," Jo replied, though Mira's face came to her mind and she felt remorse once more. However, there was no room for further conversation, as Zara's voice called out in the next moment, and it was Corliss' turn to descend.

Several minutes after the Zeltron had reached the base, Jo found herself swinging from the slender fibercord, gritting her teeth and trying not to appear as nervous as she felt, if only so she wouldn't prove Tully right. Below her, the ground was partially obscured by hissing steam that rose up from a nearby geyser, and she could only barely make out the figures of the others as they waited below. The steam rose up to surround her, nearly choking her with its acrid scent, and the air felt exponentially warmer within the curtain of white than without. But she pushed her own discomfort to the side, instead focusing on her training and ensuring that her progress down the wire was slow and steady.

As she went, she wondered if she and Atreus had done this before, and if so, she wondered if she'd been half as nervous. Did he try to comfort her with a joke or did he offer to use the Force defy gravity so that she wouldn't have to make the ungraceful descent? Even with as much as she recalled, all of the pieces were not in place, and it bothered her more than she cared to admit that she couldn't remember, though she reluctantly admitted that she should be used to it by now.

Finally she heard Tully's voice, rising up through the steam to reach her. "Sometime this week would be good, Jo. Not like we have any reason to hurry or anything."

Even though she knew he was only teasing her in his own way, it was difficult to resist the urge to snap back a retort; however, most of her concentration was on the wire in her grip, so she managed. When her boots touched solid ground once more, Jo let out a sigh of relief and unclipped her belt from the wire. She turned to the others, then nodded towards the direction of the nest. "Let's go, shall we?"

The area was quiet, save for a final hiss of steam as the geyser stopped ejecting the heated vapor, and the clatter of rocks beneath their boots as they walked. There was a very faint tremor in the ground that passed quickly, though the Ranger within her tensed at the potential warning of an earthquake. When the tremor didn't reoccur, Jo took a moment to look up the way they'd come, and immediately wished she hadn't. Where the steam had obscured her vision during her descent, she could clearly see that the face of the cliff was pockmarked with dozens of cavities of varying sizes, many of which looked just large enough to accommodate a fireworm.

Going back up would likely be much more harrowing than coming down.

She took a deep breath and shook the thought out of her mind, instead focusing on the task at hand. The nest was large, surrounded by dozens of the scales and placed dangerously close to the lava flow. However, there was no sign of any angry parent nearby, which made their lives easier. She said as much to Tully, who nodded, though he kept his blaster raised, his brow furrowed as he tilted his head from side to side while he made a silent assessment of the surrounding area.

Corliss bent over the edge of the nest and ran her fingertips along one of the scales, then frowned. "What is it?" Zara asked, kneeling beside her.

The other girl pointed towards the eggs and gave Zara a thoughtful look. "You were always better at this than me...can you see if there's anything inside the eggs?"

This made Jo and Tully both turn to the nest, though Zara frowned. "You don't think the younglings are alive?"

"There's no sense of any other creature here," the Zeltron explained with a shrug. "This nest is old, very old. I don't think it's even connected to the fireworm that we killed."

As she spoke, something opened within Johari's mind, and she moved beside the nest, carefully picking her way over the scales to stand in the center of the space, though she didn't look at the eggs; instead, she surveyed the landscape and tried not to allow the desperation to creep farther within her heart. Perhaps this wasn't the right area; perhaps the bits and pieces that she did remember were wrong, as well.

But as she studied the gray-streaked landscape, a sense of understanding swelled within her, and a little more of her memory fell back into place. Zara had bent over the nest, but Johari shook her head. "It won't matter," she said in a quiet voice. "There's nothing there, Zara. They didn't survive."

She knelt down and picked up one of the eggs, noting how it was too light, how the shell was brittle and cool to the touch. Frowning, she set the egg down and began to search through the others while Zara and Corliss looked on. "I remember now. The fireworms build their nests close to the lava to keep the eggs warm, but often they don't set them close enough, or they do it too close and the young ones don't survive. Atreus and I came across this nest after a few hours of searching; we wanted a place that would blend into the landscape, and I remembered the Ranger database stating that the fireworms would leave all of their old nests intact, so we figured that this location was secure."

In the back of her mind, she heard Tully comment about an unusual noise, but the majority of her focus was on her search. She examined each egg, looking for...something. Finally, when she reached the last one, Jo let out a sigh of relief when she noticed the seam that ran along its midsection. "Here," she breathed, picking it up gently. The others, save Tully, who was still holding his position just beyond the nest, crowded around her as she pried the pieces apart.

Within was a small holo-disc; a flat, metallic thing that looked wholly unremarkable, but Jo was transfixed, for a moment forgetting everything in her present reality as her past came rushing to her mind. For an instant she thought she could hear Atreus' voice in her head, whispering something to her, something that she desperately wanted to remember, something that faded after an instant as an image bloomed within her mind: massive bones, spreading upward to a strange, rose-colored sky.

"I know where the Great Holocron is," she whispered, staring at the small device.

Zara's breath hitched. "Where?"

On the heels of the image, a sound erupted, and Johari's mind was suddenly filled with the song of some strange and frightening creature, with whispers that she couldn't discern and with the touch of Atreus' hands on her face. The memories were returning swifter than before, although she was still unable to place the bulk of them in any context.

Rather than voice any of this, she swallowed once, trying to ensure that when she spoke her voice would not break, would not give anything of herself away even as she felt Tully's hand on her shoulder in a silent show of support.

At last she was able to get the name out: "Iego."

* * *

Tremayne hardly spared a glance for the Shadow Guard as the other man entered the _Theta_-class shuttle's interior, flanked by a coterie of stormtroopers, some of whom the High Inquisitor had sent to bring Corliss' old ship back to Prakith after he'd arrived on Glee Anselm to clean up her mess.

Moments later, they were emerging from the muggy air and making their way through the atmosphere. Without the molded hood and with the addition of several nasty-looking gashes and patches of mud on his armor, the Shadow Guard did not look anywhere as menacing as Tremayne supposed the Emperor preferred his elite guards to appear; after fetching a medipac from a compartment set within the bulkhead, Shadow Tor took a seat beside Tremayne, who managed to get a sense of the dark-armored man's anxiety. It was faint, but present, and he smiled to himself before he spoke.

"I've traced her locator signal to Eol Sha. We should be there in a matter of hours."

The Guard nodded, but said nothing as he opened the kit and selected a cleansing cloth to take care of the worst of his injuries. Without the hood, the Shadow Guard looked even younger than Tremayne had first reckoned, and he wondered how old the fellow really was. A very light probe into his mind informed Tremayne of the younger man's fatigue and frustration, much of it centered – not on the pink-skinned young woman – but on the circumstances surrounding her 'defection.' Beyond those feelings, though, was something deeper, stronger, something that Tremayne had expected. The Shadow had grown attached to Corliss.

Naturally. Of course, it would serve little purpose now that Corliss had defected; though, Tremayne mused, if on the off-chance she was playing some kind of game with the Padawan, he could still use Shadow Tor to unwittingly manipulate the Zeltron further, so perhaps all was not lost. Yet.

So that his own thoughts wouldn't be discerned, Tremayne modulated his words to sound disinterested, as if he was making idle conversation. "You are concerned for her?"

To his credit, the dark-skinned man's expression did not change, though there was a definite spike of alarm within him at the words. "Acolyte Auset has betrayed the Empire with her actions," he said at last in a firm voice. "She deserves whatever punishment comes to her."

Rather than reply, the High Inquisitor nodded once, gravely, and then glanced back down at his datapad, looking over the latest Imperial intel-feeds and the reports of the progress of the newest additions to the Inquisitorius' training program.

"Corliss has many talents," he said after a moment. "Not the least of which being able to get others to care for her well-being when they would otherwise not concern themselves." He glanced up and met the younger man's eyes. "Do not discount her so easily, Shadow Tor. She may very well surprise both of us."

"I have no doubt, High Inquisitor," the Shadow replied in a curt voice, though he frowned and looked down at the kit, suddenly very taken up with attending to his wounds.

It was really too easy. Tremayne managed to bite back his chuckle.

Their arrival on Eol Sha was uneventful, though it took longer to reach the planet than Tremayne would have liked due to the pilot's reluctance to fly through the Cauldron Nebula. As the shuttle orbited the unremarkable world, Tremayne reached out with the Force, searching through the currents of energy even as the troopers made a sweep with the sensors in an attempt to locate their quarry's vessel.

He had never been able to speak to Corliss through the Force, but he knew her mind, knew her presence, and knew _her_ well enough to be able to find her anywhere. After Antinnis Tremayne reached through the Force and sought his disciple, it was some time before he found her; once he did, he felt her bewilderment in the Force and could picture her lips parting in surprise as his awareness brushed her own. And though he couldn't speak to her, he was able to get a sense of what she was doing and thinking, and when he felt her open to him, when her mind unfurled to his intrusion as surely as if she was kneeling at his feet, he smiled in earnest.

_Corliss, _he thought, trying to get the meaning, if not the words, across to her. _I'm coming for you._

There was a pause, and if she'd been before him she would have bitten her lip. Then he felt rather then heard the gist of her reply, and the intensity behind the single thought was enough to lift his brows in surprise.

_Don't._

* * *

_The plot thickens, yes?  
_

_Don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you think. ;) Thanks for reading!  
_


	23. The World That Smolders

Song: "Blow It All Away," by Sia, from the (live!) album _Lady Croissant_.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: The World That Smolders**

_But even if you had it all_

_You would find, _

_I could never let you stay,_

_'Cause you blow it all away._

Once they'd watched the others leave, Levy wanted to return to the _Spiral Dance _and see how the vessel was faring after having taken some time to cool off. Even though Zara had healed most of his injury, walking was still difficult, but neither young clone was willing to let a little thing like an injury slow them down. The moment they reached the ship Levy slipped away from Drake's shoulder and made his way to the engine compartments to take a look at the repercussions of their almost-crash-landing. Luckily, no permanent damage seemed to have been caused by the overheating, but he decided to do a diagnostic check just to make sure.

"Want any help?" Drake's voice was a little too quiet, which gave Levy pause. A glance at his brother showed him that the other clone was leaning against the bulkhead, arms crossed before his chest, eyes on the floor. His face was pensive.

Aside from the fact that the space just wasn't large enough to warrant two mechanics, Levy was more than able to handle the simple diagnostic on his own, but he could see that his brother needed...something. A distraction if nothing else. So he nodded and indicated a diagnostic panel at the side of the engine he was working on, then lifted his hands._ Keep an eye on that readout, will you? I need to poke around in here._

Something like relief crossed Drake's face as he nodded and moved to the panel, eyes running over the device as if he wasn't really seeing it while Levy unfastened the coolant-filter housing and peered inside the small chamber, searching for signs of heat corrosion that would lead to clogging. There was quiet for a few moments, then Drake spoke. "What do you think of Corliss?"

It was a weighted question if there ever was one. Levy frowned and pulled one of the interlocking, webbed filters loose, investigating it as he considered his reply. Finally he glanced over at his brother and replied. _Zara seems to trust her. Sort of._

"But you don't?"

The filter was coated with carbon scouring, from what Levy could tell; most of the others were in the same shape. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't great, either. Everything had been so hectic since they started their adventure, he hadn't had time to properly go over the ship's engines as he should have; from what he could tell, the _Dance _needed better care than she'd gotten in the last several years. He sighed and looked back at Drake. _No. I want to, _he added, seeing his brother's face darken. _Especially 'cause Zara seems to want to, but..._

"Yeah," Drake said, tapping his fingers along the sides of the diagnostic panel. "I want to as well. But she's...wrong. So much about her is wrong, and I don't like it. I don't trust her," he added, straightening his spine as if he'd only just decided. "And I don't like that Zara's decided to give her a chance."

Levy was fairly sure that they'd both noticed the way that Zara looked at her old friend: like the Zeltron could do no wrong, like they were still Padawans together, and like Corliss hadn't turned traitor. _So what are you going to do? _

Drake gave a hollow laugh and toyed with one of the knobs on the panel as if in thought. "No idea, _vod._" He ran a hand through his hair and seemed to stare off at nothing in particular for a moment before he spoke again. "I only know one thing for certain, and it's not going to make anyone's life easier."

At first, the declaration was news to Levy, though after a moment's reflection he thought he knew what was coming, so he studied his brother and waited for a reply. Finally Drake sighed and gave him a somewhat helpless look. "I know that I love her, Levy. I just don't know if it will be enough." He gave another bitter laugh and frowned down at the panel, as it had started beeping in an indication that the diagnostic was nearing completion. "I know it hasn't been enough, before. Why should now be any different?"

Despite the nonchalance of Drake's tone, there was pain behind the words, and Levy was at a loss for a moment as to what he could say or do that would help. Finally, he set the last of the filters back in its place, closed the cover, and stepped towards his brother; when he 'spoke' again, he was careful that the movement of his hands was clear and precise, so that no word would be mistaken. _I know one thing, too, Drake. _

"What's that, Lev?"

_I've got your six. _As he formed the words, Levy couldn't help the smile that came to his face at the use of the old lingo, and – as he'd hoped – Drake smiled as well.

"Good to hear." They stood awkwardly for a moment before a soft buzzing sound made Levy look up with concern. Drake didn't miss the movement and followed his gaze, though they were only facing the ceiling of the _Dance_'s interior. "What is it?"

But Levy's stomach had dropped to his knees, as there was really no reason for him to hear the sound of another ship unless the Empire had tracked down its errant agent. He cursed inwardly and his hands moved in the motions that were necessary to convey that danger was upon them, close too, by the sound of it. Drake swore in earnest but it was not a helpless sound. His voice was that of a man who knew what was coming and what he could do about it.

After darting to the cargo bay, Drake returned with several blasters and ammunition, and gave Levy a look-over; his demeanor was replete with cool assessment and battle-readiness, the uncertainty of a few moments before evaporated in light of the new development. "You still can't walk well, right?"

This was no time to play hero. Levy shook his head, and his brother nodded quickly. "Let Zara know we have company, if she doesn't already. I'll need you to stay on the _Dance_ and make sure she's ready to take off, but if the Imps come for you..."

Levy knew his brother well enough to read the sudden surge of indecision on his face, so he headed him off. _Imperials or not, I'll have to stay on the ship to get her ready for flight, _he said even as the buzzing sound grew louder. Drake frowned, but it was Levy's turn to be cool. _Someone needs to make sure we can get out of here, vod. It may as well be me. _

Nodding, Drake handed him a blaster, along with several ammo packs. "I'll take cover by that _shabla_ fireworm and try to keep their attention. As soon as you can..." He trailed off as the buzzing grew into a whine, then was followed by a hiss of hydraulics.

Levy glared at his brother. _Go._

Drake took a breath and nodded, then – as if on a whim – clasped Levy's arms and gave him a meaningful look. "I'll see you in a few minutes, _vod._"

* * *

"What is it?"

Tremayne blinked in surprise, then glanced over at the Shadow Guard, who'd come to stand beside him as he attempted to contact Corliss through the Force. The other man's face was a visage of calm, but his emotions betrayed him: his thoughts indicated the true nature of his concern for the Zeltron girl.

So the High Inquisitor took a moment to speak, as if he were uncertain, but considering just what had happened with his acolyte. "She has turned, as I feared. However," he added to the Guard's startled expression. "All is not lost. Corliss has a...susceptible mind, and her heart is filled with fanciful sentiments. It is likely that she believes whatever lies they've told her in order to gain her cooperation, and it is just as likely that she will return to us once we find her."

He was careful to say 'us' instead of 'I,' as he knew that the Shadow Guard's cooperation would be helpful for the task at hand. The Guard nodded and his hands tightened around his staff, the bright crimson tip springing to life with a hiss.

Just then, one of the troopers from the front comm'd the cabin. "Sir, we've gotten a lock on their location. Shall we set down?"

"At once."

Eol Sha's atmosphere was an unremarkable wash of tans and grays; below, he could make out ripples of basalt and charcoal-colored rocks, cracked with lines of fire as the planet's more unstable tectonic plates shifted and rippled against themselves. As they descended, clouds of steam billowed up from geysers on the surface, and the dull gray color of the landscape was occasionally broken by pools of crusted, sulfurous liquid.

The shuttle dropped further. Still standing by the viewport, Tremayne could see the Padawan's ship, a battered-looking thing that had been landed haphazardly on a relatively bare patch of ground, which told him that they had arrived on Eol Sha limping and wounded. Tremayne smiled to himself.

"Besides the Padawan, there is an Echani woman and three Fett clones," the Guard said, coming to stand beside the High Inquisitor. His tone darkened, blending in with the hum of his saber-pike. "Leave the Echani to me. Your troopers should be able to handle the clones."

Tremayne made no response other than a single nod.

The ship landed about thirty meters from the Padawan's vessel, hydraulics hissing as it settled its weight against the terrain. Allowing the stormtroopers to gather at the hatch before him and the Guard, Tremayne indicated their quarry's ship. "You are to dispose of the clones, and leave the others to myself and Shadow Tor."

The hatch opened and the first of the troopers stepped onto the rocky ground. Immediately, they were assaulted by a hail of blaster-fire, though from which direction Tremayne couldn't see at first, given the copious amount of steam. In their fashion, the soldiers began returning fire while the High Inquisitor reached out through the Force to get a sense of their enemies' position. _There. _The shots were coming from behind the immense corpse of what appeared to be a fireworm, and Tremayne was very nearly surprised at the fact until he caught the presence of a Fett clone in the Force.

But there was no time to think, only act. Beside him, the Shadow Guard had raised his own blaster and was helping to return the fire. Again, Tremayne cast his senses out; this time that he sensed Corliss and – he assumed – the Padawan, Zara Karell. They were approaching from the west, along with two other presences he supposed were the Echani Ranger and another clone. Tremayne glanced before him at the white-armored troopers who were still clustered in front of his path and felt a surge of irritation. "Get out there and take care of those clones," he growled, sending a push of the Force towards the nearest one as an incentive.

Immediately they responded and hurried out of the shuttle, taking cover beside a nearby pile of rocks to return the fire. Exchanging one last look with the Shadow Guard, Tremayne somersaulted away from the other man and leaped towards the thickening steam, towards Corliss and her prey.

* * *

Corliss was unsure which part of the last few minutes had baffled her more: the fact that Zara and her companions were searching for no minor artifact, but the legendary Great HoIocron, or the fact that she'd actually _felt _Tremayne's querying brush against her mind through the Force.

But those revelations didn't matter much, because no sooner had the Antarian Ranger said "Iego" did the clone – Tully – let out a swift curse and raised his blaster. "That noise...it's a ship. A shuttle..._Theta-_class."

"How can you possibly know such a thing?" Corliss asked.

The blindfolded clone gave her a frown but replied. "I never forget a ship that attacks me and my family, _osi'ka_." Although Corliss didn't know the exact translation of the word, its meaning was clear enough in the vitriolic timbre of his voice. In the next moment, he turned away from her and spoke to the Echani. "We need to evac, Jo. Unless you're in a mood to tangle with the Imps again."

"It's too late," Zara said suddenly, blinking as if emerging from a dark room before turning to leave, making her way back to the dangling fibercords. "Levy just told me that they've landed near the _Spiral Dance. _He's getting the ship ready to go, but Drake's trying to keep them occupied until we get there. We have to hurry..."

For a moment the Zeltron was swept up within Zara's anxiety, and she had a sudden urge to run away with her friend and leave her life as a servant of the Empire behind, a realization that filled her with doubt.

But Antinnis had given her too much for her to turn from him now; he'd released the hidden potential that she never knew she'd had, and shown her the true wisdom of the Force that the Jedi had attempted to keep from her. He had saved her life once, picked her up and remade her into something stronger after she'd failed her old master, and although he was at times harsh and seemingly cruel, she just _knew_ that he valued her for who she was, in addition to what she was capable of.

As if further validating her decision, Corliss recalled her master's brush against her own consciousness, and she shivered despite the heat with the realization that Antinnis Tremayne, Imperial High Inquisitor, had come all the way out here for her, because he wanted to see what she had done.

_No, _she thought as the shuddering ground beneath her feet mirrored the tremor under her skin, as if she was physically shaking away her indecision._ No, I will not fail him, too._

So she swallowed her uncertainty and pushed away her fear, instead springing after Zara, feeling the Echani and the blind clone close on her heels. As they hurried across the rocky ground, she reached out to the other girl and felt Zara's agitation, centered mostly on the two clones they'd left at the ship. Once they reached the place where the fibercords dangled and the Ranger and the clone began to prepare their lines, she grabbed her friend's arm. "Zara...he'll kill them if he has a chance."

At the words, the Nautolan looked her way, eyes wide with fear. "You know who's here? Is it that Shadow Guard?"

Knowing that she had to tread very carefully here, Corliss deliberately hesitated as if the words wouldn't come. "Antinnis Tremayne," she choked out at last. "The Imperial High Inquisitor and my former Master. He's come for me, and he'll stop at nothing until..." She broke off at the burning behind her eyes; above them they could hear the shriek of blaster-fire and Zara's _lekku _twitched, a physical example of the anxiety that Corliss could feel roiling off of her. "Tremayne will not let me go so easily, Zara. And I can't go back to him...not now."

As she spoke, she met her friend's gaze and felt the swirl of her own emotions, because they were all true. Zara's eyes widened.

Every word was real.

From a certain point of view.

Tremayne would be pleased, she reminded herself. _And I will have all that I've wanted for so long._

The blind clone and the Echani were behind them. "We must get up there," Johari said as the sound of more blaster-fire erupted above their position.

Zara nodded, then called her saber to her hand; with one motion she released Corliss from the cuffs and handed the hilts of her sabers to her, then glanced at the others. "We'll go up first with the Force and try to keep most of their attention while you ascend the line. Levy..." She trailed off and the faraway look came across her face, and Corliss decided that she simply _had_ to know what that was all about, then Zara's eyes cleared and she nodded as if to herself. "Levy's getting the ship warmed up; as soon as we can, we need to leave."

With that she glanced at Corliss. "Ready?"

It was a relief to have her hands unbound and to feel the weight of her sabers within them, and the thought of seeing Tremayne again made her heart lighter, so Corliss nodded and collected the Force to her. Zara did as well – the pull of her focus tugged at Corliss' own awareness like an ocean tide – and within seconds they had sprung upwards, higher than any earthbound being should have been able to manage, to land in the midst of steam and shrieking blaster-fire.

Only a few moments of disorientation passed before Corliss recognized Tremayne's signature in the Force; the steam seemed to be thickening by the moment, and the ground here had started to shiver a bit harder, as if it was repulsed by the battle that was taking place and wanting to shake it away. But there was no time for any more poetic notions, for almost as soon as she and Zara had landed, Corliss felt _him._ A second after, she watched the crimson beam of energy emerge from the white-wreathing steam as he approached.

Dimly, she felt Priam's presence as well, but it was distant and she hardly gave the Shadow Guard a thought as she watched Antinnis' saber-beam as he strode over to them. She leaned close to Zara, who had grown very tense. "Don't let him speak," she whispered. "He's a master manipulator, and before you know it, he'll have your thoughts twisted up beyond recognition."

Zara blinked at her; when she spoke her voice held an edge that Corliss recognized. "Is that what he did to you?"

There was no time to answer. Antinnis Tremayne met them through the swathe of white mist, and the thickening heat, so Corliss and Zara threw themselves into the battle.

She had sparred with Tremayne many, many times, but it had never been like this. His movements were vicious and viper-fast, accompanied by a heady onslaught of power that Corliss wanted to lose herself within. When his blade reached for her throat, she considered letting him strike, just to see if he would do her in, but it was fleeting, wild fancy as she maneuvered away from him and ducked out of the way, only to come up behind him and attempt a strike at his torso. Tremayne's face was obscured by the steam, but she imagined that he was watching her with pride.

Zara was...magnificent.

Part of Corliss' brain was taken up with shock at the vast improvement to her former friend's skills . It had been apparent on Humbarine, and again on Glee Anselm, but during those times the Zeltron had been too fixated on her own survival to consider the blue-skinned girl's prowess.

Power ebbed off of Zara Karell, flowing from eddies of determination and strength, and Corliss realized at once what an ally she would make, and she knew that Tremayne would see it as well. So as he pushed the Padawan backward with a brush of the Force, Corliss danced away a little bit, towards Tremayne and away from Zara – who'd fallen back several meters, towards the precipice – as if she were intending on egging on the High Inquisitor on her own while her friend was momentarily disabled. In the background she could still hear blaster-fire, along with the scuff of booted feet against the rock and the occasional clang of song-steel.

Lunging at Tremayne, Corliss willed him to see her, to understand what it was she was trying to do. She thought that he did, for when she struck, he held her only a breath apart from him and met her eyes with his own gray ones. _I am yours, _she wanted to shout as he took her in, ran his gaze across her face while she felt her body aching for his touch. _Never doubt it. _

Then he struck her across her cheek with his closed fist, hard enough to send her careening backward as her vision swam. Corliss cried out – shock, betrayal, hurt – and it was then that Zara, who had righted herself, leaped between them just as Tremayne raised his saber to land a killing blow on his student. "No," Zara cried, her voice almost lost in the scream of plasma around them. "I won't let you hurt her anymore!"

Corliss felt it, then: a swell of anger, of dark, rippling fury that emanated from the Nautolan that was strong enough to make her own eyes close briefly, only partly in triumph. Zara attacked the High Inquisitor, thrusting her blue blade at him with a renewed energy, and for a few moments Tremayne was pressed back. As Corliss struggled to her feet, she watched Zara and felt her friend's emotions through the Force.

Anger, writhing and strong, directed outward towards the man she fought against.

Frustration, turned inward at herself, at her own shortcomings.

_Fear_. It was real and piping hot, and it was centered on those around her and others who were not present.

Zara was already starting to slip. And not a moment too soon.

Corliss gathered the Force to her as she prepared to leap back into the fray; the Dark Side licked through her veins like fire and she felt its familiar, heady rush of power as she launched herself into the air.

* * *

Johari found that her own agitation surrounding the ascent back up the precipice was a small thing in light of the Imperial attack that was going on meters above her head. The Force-users had gone, leaving her and Tully to climb up the line; it was a maddeningly slow pace, especially when she knew that Levy and Drake were in trouble. However, no amount of training could counteract the press of gravity that seemed to be compounded by the need for haste, until it was almost impossible to move at more than a Ithorian slug's pace.

In his fashion, Tully knew how to distract her. "After all of this, do you think I can be made an honorary Ranger?"

Jo couldn't help but laugh, though the mention of the Rangers sent another kind of worry through her heart. She hadn't been able to contact any of the others in years, and a part of her wondered if the bulk of them had been extinguished right along with the Jedi. Had they all been lost, too?"I'll see what I can do, Tully," she called back, reaching above her head as she continued to pull herself along.

Finally they reached the top, though Jo paused a moment just below the edge to peer over and get a sense of what it was they were about to rush into. The shuttled that the Imperials had arrived in was well across the clearing, between scattered boulders and patches of sulfur pools. Closer to her and Tully's position, the _Spiral Dance_ was emanating streaks of blue fire from the half-open hatch as Levy fired on the stormtroopers, who were clustered together behind a crumble of rocks.

Another hail of blaster shots rang out to her left, and she could make out Drake crouching behind the corpse of the fireworm, though most of his fire seemed to be directed at the Shadow Guard, who was deflecting the bolts with ease. The area was also filled with a hissing steam that was spurting from unseen geysers, and as she began to haul herself up over the edge, she felt the ground tremble.

"Earthquake," Tully said as he clambered up beside her. "Fan-kriffing-"

"Stay with me," she interrupted. "I'll see that you get to cover." As she dropped into a low run, she heard Tully mutter something incoherent, so she glanced his way. "What is it?"

"Just don't try to handle that Shadow-guy on your own," he said. "Not without me by your side, okay _vod_?" The ground shook again, the tremor accompanied by an ominous rumble that filled her ears even through the wail of blaster-fire. Tully's hand was on her shoulder and his grip was as firm as his voice. Finally she nodded, and he sighed. "Use your words, Jo. I'm blind...remember?"

Rather than speak, she pressed her hand in his and they began to race for the body of the fireworm, for Drake's position. Another tremor, stronger, but Jo was able to keep her footing; the only good thing about it was that the quakes seemed to throw off the stormtroopers' already shaky aim.

However, she figured that the Shadow Guard would not be so easily swayed. The dark-armored man had alighted on the body of the fireworm and was skimming his pike along the scales even as he deflected Drake's shots. She could see that the clone was tiring, that his aim was not as true as it should have been, that he was distracted, and in the distance she heard the clashing of lightsabers.

But the good thing about the situation was that the Guard's back was to them and Jo thought that she saw Drake's eyes shift her way even as he ducked to avoid the saber-pike. There was another rumble, violent enough to cause distant rocks to come clattering down to their position, and through the din she whispered to Tully where he needed to go.

The Shadow Guard raised his saber-pike again as Drake lifted his blaster, determination written on his features. He fired a shot before the Guard, who swung his entire body to deflect it, which was when Johari and Tully struck. Her song-steel blades may as well have been a part of the steam itself, for they appeared almost nonexistent in the miasma. Johari skipped the contained movements of _kohia, _ignored the extension of _jorma, _and aligned her body in a direct _tandu_ motion, striking out with all of her strength. The song-steel's bite was true, and the Shadow Guard let out a cry of pain as the blades bore through his armor and into his right hamstring.

Tully let out a whoop and leveled a swift kick at the man's back, sending him careening to the ground; at this, Drake leaped up and snatched the saber-pike away from their opponent and indicated the ship. "We need to go," he called out through the din as they all crouched behind the fireworm. "Levy's on his own."

"Zara..." Jo looked back at the direction of the others, where she could dimly make out three red blades and one blue, clashing through the mist.

Something in Drake's face tightened and he shook his head. "She can hold her own, but I need to help my brother." A hail of the stormtroopers' blaster-fire surrounded them, and he snatched the blind clone down, saying his name as he did so. "We need to take out those Imps if we want to get to the ship."

"Point me in the right direction, _vod'ika._"

Johari took a breath and the ground beneath her feet gave a violent shudder as she sheathed her blades and reached forward to take the pike from Drake. "I'll bring her back, Drake. Get the ship ready." With that, the trio dissipated; the clones made their way to the ship while Johari hurried towards the sound of lightsabers.

The Inquisitor had led the younger women to an area that was dense with sulfur pools and the ubiquitous steam that seemed to have thickened even more as the ground had started to shake, as if Eol Sha was trying to sabotage them. The saber-pike buzzed in her hands, the faint vibration from the energy blade unfamiliar and a little menacing, but she didn't have time to hesitate over her own use of the weapon. Her vision was so obscured, Jo almost didn't see Zara and the others until she was nearly upon them.

When she reached the Force-users, she was struck by two things: the first was the apparent ferocity of Zara's attack, so much so that she watched as Tremayne – who was not a small man – was made to stumble back again and again from the force of the Padawan's strikes; the second thing she noticed was that Tremayne, for all of the power behind the way he wielded his saber, was not _trying_ to win the battle. He parried, he avoided, he counter-attacked, but she read in his movements only that he was stalling for...something.

For what exactly, she wasn't sure.

The young Zeltron's movements were fast and fluid, but – like Tremayne's – she seemed as if she was only set on keeping the battle going, and not on landing a killing blow. Jo watched in amazement as Corliss – deliberately? – missed an opportunity to strike at Tremayne's throat, after which she felt cold realization form within her gut. But as soon as she witnessed the Zeltron's lack of action, Corliss seemed to change, her movement suddenly becoming more precise, almost as if she'd only been tired, and had taken a moment to recharge while Zara took the brunt of the battle unto herself.

Johari didn't know what to make of it all, so she leaped into the scene, taking no small amount of pleasure as she startled the High Inquisitor and was able to land a glancing blow to his shoulder with the pike. At her approach, Zara seemed startled, and Corliss did as well, for both young women looked at her with wide eyes even as Tremayne stumbled back, his heel coming to the edge of the closest pool. As the tremors increased, the ground shivered beneath their feet, causing him to fight to keep his balance.

Almost as one, the three women leaped forward, knocking the Inquisitor backwards so that he fell into the pool with a splash just as the ground shuddered again, harder than ever before. Rocks from the mountains above began to clatter to the area around them.

Tremayne was disabled for the moment, but it wouldn't last, so Johari grabbed the Padawan's sleeve, as if to jerk her out of a trance. "We must leave," Jo said, locking her eyes on Zara; part of her noted that Corliss regarded the saber-pike with alarm, though she said nothing. "The area isn't stable..." Nodding, the blue-skinned young woman glanced at Corliss, and the three of them broke into a run.

"The others...?" Zara's voice was breathless as they ran, as if she was afraid of the answer.

"As far as I know they're okay," Jo replied, leaping over a sulfur pool in her way. "But we don't have much time..."

As she said the words, she realized that the blaster-fire had ceased, then heard the unmistakable thrum of the _Dance's _engines, and her heart felt a little lighter. They rushed through the air that was thick and choking with streaming heat, and were upon the little craft almost immediately. The hatch was down, Tully was at the doorway; at the sound of their approach he held out his hand as if to help them aboard.

Only when Jo had set foot aboard her ship once more, only when she heard Zara's steps behind her and the hatch seal, only when she realized that Levy was safely at the nav, did she allow herself to relax as they slipped out of the atmosphere and away from Eol Sha at last.

* * *

_Exciting stuff, I hope! Lots of setup for the next story, including the fact that Corliss does not know about the Force-talking between Levy and Zara, (assuming I didn't mess up at any point. :P) _

_Thank you for reading, and please leave a comment to let me know what you think. :) _

_Three chapters left..._


	24. Siren Song

Song: "I Remember," by deadmau5, from the album _It Sounds Like._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Siren Song**

_Add to the memory you keep,_

_Remember when you fall asleep._

_Hold to to love that you know,_

_You don't have to move on to let go. _

Zara should have been exhausted, but instead she only felt...powerful.

There was no other way to describe the heady rush of energy that she'd experienced during her fight with Tremayne. It went beyond the feeling of working with the Force; usually she had to struggled to be guided by the eddies and currents of energy in order to perform even the simplest task, but this time the Force was _hers. _Rather than allow herself to be moved by the gentle impulsion, she'd been the instigator. It was _Zara's_ will that was brought about, and the Force became the tool in her hand, which made her feel invincible, as if nothing in the galaxy could stand up to her onslaught. As if nothing could take her down.

But in the aftermath, once the fervor of battle had fled her mind and she had a chance to stop and collect herself, she knew the reason behind the her feelings as she leaned against the bulkhead of the _Spiral Dance, _listening to the others speaking around her.

The Dark Side_._

It had been so easy to access – frighteningly easy, in fact – and the and the realization that she had allowed herself to make use of the foul energy filled her with shame, because she should have known better.

"Zara? Are you hurt?" It was Corliss, placing a hand against her arm, concern in her voice. "Are you okay?"

Zara's eyes opened and fell upon her friend, noting at once the ugly gash on her cheek from where Tremayne had struck her, and again the anger surged within her heart at how Corliss had been treated by the Empire. But now, away from the heat of battle, she was able to replace the emotion with cool collection, and gave a slow nod. "I'm okay, Lissy."

"Me too," Tully said from behind her position. "Just wonderful, really. No need to ask. However, you _might_ want to take a look at the rest of your crew, Padawan."

Again, shame flared within Zara and she turned her gaze to the helm, where Drake and Levy were at their respective stations while the _Dance _slipped through hyperspace. At her approach, Levy twisted around from the nav to glance at her, wincing as he did so. As the stars streaked past, she knelt between them. "Levy, how's your side?"

She expected him to answer her with his thoughts, as he'd done in the past, but instead he lifted his hands to reply. _Not bad. A little sore, Zar. I think I just need rest, but I'm good for now. _

"Are you sure?" Nodding, he glanced down at the console, suddenly very preoccupied with something on the screen. She sighed and looked at Drake. "Are you...?"

"Fine," was his curt reply, though he grimaced and amended the word a moment later. "I mean, I'm good, Zar. Not a scratch." He glanced at her and gave a very unconvincing smile. "Thanks, though."

His tone was light but when she reached out to him through the Force she felt nothing, as it had been before the start of their journey, before they'd...

"I think we're all okay," Johari said from behind her. Zara turned around and noticed the Echani woman and Tully, who were taking seats behind the helm, the latter beginning to disassemble and clean his weapon. "Aside from Levy, it appears that Corliss fared the worst out of any of us," she added, nodding to the rapidly darkening bruise on the Zeltron's face. At these words, Corliss put a hand to her cheek, wincing at the sensation.

Zara glanced at her friend. "Here, let me take a look at-"

"Now, wait one second," Tully broke in, sitting up straight in his seat, shifting the blaster in his lap. "Isn't _she_ still supposed to be back in cuffs or something? Since when do we give Imperial _osik_ free-run of the ship?"

Corliss frowned, but said nothing as Zara looked at Johari. "You saw how she helped us out on Eol Sha; we never would have managed to defeat the fireworm – or Tremayne, for that matter – without her."

From the helm, Drake's voice sounded, though it was quiet. "Even so...she's still one of _them. _One or two good deeds don't excuse years of treacherous ones."

"So she should never get another chance?" Zara shot back, feeling the strange coil of anger build within her again. "So, the rest of her life should be defined by the last few years? How can you say that, Drake? How can you even think it?"

There was silence for a moment as everyone else shifted in place, and Drake kept his eyes fixed ahead on the stars. Finally Zara spoke again. "The past is over. It has no place in the here and now, as long as she's willing to move forward. I thought you understood that."

At this, Drake twisted around and met her eyes, his own honey-brown ones narrowed with his focus. There was worry within them; his concern for her was written in his gaze, and for one moment she was taken aback by the force of the emotion. When he spoke it was with an inflection that she had not heard from him before, and she thought that he sounded older than his years. "You're right: the past _is_ over...but it still defines parts of our lives to this day, whether we like it or not, or if we even realize it."

As Zara shook her head, the exaggerated thud of her _lekku _against her shoulders told her that she was tired. "You're wrong about her, Drake."

"I hope so, Zar," was his soft reply.

"It's okay," Corliss said suddenly, stepping forward between them and placing a hand on Zara's arm although she spoke to the clone. "I understand why you feel as you do, Drake, and I won't argue the point with you. Zara," she added, gently pulling the Nautolan to face her before holding out her wrists. "I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. You can bind me again if you like."

"Let's just go back to my cabin so I can look over that bruise," Zara replied with a frown. As the Zeltron turned to leave, Zara shot a look up to the helm, to where Drake was sitting, but he was facing forward to the stars once more. However, she could see his reflection in the viewport, and he met her gaze after a moment with an expression that she could not read.

By the time she made it back to her cabin, Corliss was already there, seated cross-legged on the bed and gathering back her blue-black hair. When Zara entered, the Zeltron girl gave her a sad sort of smile. "I'm sorry that your lover is displeased with you. I know it's my doing."

Rather than reply, Zara took a seat beside Corliss and motioned for her friend to turn her way, and hold still. The anger she'd felt before had completely faded away now, replaced with utter exhaustion, so it took her a moment to gather even enough Force-energy that would be necessary to heal the Zeltron. Sensing her weariness, Corliss shook her head. "You don't have to, Zar. It's fine, really." Her eyes dropped, as did the pitch of her voice. "It's not the first time Tremayne has done such a thing to me, after all."

A flare of the anger returned, so Zara took a deep breath to bring herself a measure of calm. She glanced up into Corliss' indigo eyes and frowned, though after another moment she extended her arm and found the strength to at least call the first-aid kit to her hand from its place beneath the bunk. As she set it beside her on the bed and began rifling through the contents, she shot another look at the Zeltron. "What exactly did he do to you?"

At the words, Corliss' eyes widened and she looked down at her hands as agitation coiled around her, emanating from the young woman with enough force to make Zara blink her eyes. As she had been able to do in the past, Zara was able to resist falling victim to sympathetic feelings and instead focus on the mechanics of healing, allowing her mind to be still. Corliss cast a glance her way; along with the anxiety and fear there was a trace of guilt, though it passed quickly, and for a moment it felt as though they were kids again, back at the Temple, and it was then that Zara did feel a rush of her own sorrow for she knew that things would never be as they once were.

Time had irrevocably altered her friend, almost to the point of no return, although a small, secret part of Zara's mind whispered that all was not lost, that there was good within the pink-skinned young woman, as surely as there was anger and fear. Zara had to believe that love and patience would win the day, and she resolved again to see that her friend was made whole again, though in the interim she only began to run a wetcloth over Corliss' cheek to clean off any dirt or blood.

After a moment, Corliss reached up to once more gather her hair. Her hands were trembling as if she was nervous, and Zara thought that such a thing meant that she _wanted_ to talk; for several moments the other young woman seemed to struggle with words that just wouldn't come.

Zara tried to be patient, as she knew that Kalinda would have done. Honi – in her brusque manner – would have tried to force Corliss to speak, but Zara thought that she knew better. So she finished wiping the wound, then lifted a swab and coated it with bacta, which she raised to daub on the broken skin.

Finally, as she placed the bacta, Corliss found her voice. "Have you ever been to Prakith?" Zara shook her head, and Corliss continued, her eyes distant. "After my capture, Tremayne decided that I was too strong with the Force to be another slave to the Emperor, like so many others wound up, or to just be killed. So he brought me to the Citadel Inquisitorius, on Prakith.

"It's a harsh world. Highly mountainous throughout both hemispheres, and very unstable. There are earthquakes often, and it's almost impossible to travel over the terrain without some kind of repulsor vehicle. After the Empire built the Citadel, though, a network of roads were established, and – among other things – a state-of-the-art public transportation system was brought to the planet, to keep the citizens happy, to keep them from wondering..."

Here she trailed off and took a deep, shuddering breath before she started speaking again. "Because of this, those that live on Prakith are unflinchingly loyal to the Emperor, and accept the strictures that he has placed upon them and the area around the Citadel. All the cities are heavily guarded...but nothing compares to the protection surrounding Citadel Inquisitorius. Escape, you see, is not an option, for there's nowhere to go," she added, lifting her eyes to Zara, who had set the bacta away.

"Tremayne was...brutally efficient in his training," she went on after a moment. "Far more so than any Jedi Master. He would not tolerate failure of any kind, even a minor one. Though I didn't see many others during my first few months there, I'd hear their screams at night." She shivered, and Zara felt a chill pass through her at the words.

"Others?"

Corliss took a breath and met Zara's eyes. "Inquisitors are Jedi hunters, Zar. That's what he trained me to do...the cells of Citadel Inquisitorius are filled with captured Jedi and other Force-users."

Zara thought of Kalinda or Honi being captured and a cold feeling started to creep into her gut as she considered the fate of other Jedi, sentients whom she may have never met, but who were nevertheless brothers and sisters in arms. They were Jedi, as was she, and suddenly the Great Holocron felt insignificant in the wake of their lives and of the survival of the Jedi Order as a whole. Zara recognized the feeling of hope that was within her, but it felt brittle as old glass in light of her friend's words.

Swallowing, Zara forced her voice to be calm. "What does he do with them? Turn them into more Inquisitors?"

"If they are strong enough. If they comply and don't argue or fight him too much," Corliss continued with a nod. "If not..." She bit her lip and looked away, looked down at her hands and seemed to be fighting back tears. "Either way, he has methods of...breaking people."

"Oh, Lissy..." Sorrow returned to Zara, though it was layered with an angry, bitter sense of injustice that made her heart ache.

Dark hair fell like a curtain over Corliss' face as her head ducked further still, and she wiped at her eyes with her fingertips. "I'm alive, anyway. I'm luckier than most...though..." She took a shuddering breath and seemed to regain control as she met Zara's eyes again. "Antinnis gets into your mind, your thoughts. His voice...Zar, I can still hear it in my dreams."

Zara thought back to the battle on Eol Sha. Truthfully, she didn't remember much of it, a her mind had been awash with a red haze of anger at the thought of her friend's treatment. But there was, she mused, something about the way that Corliss had reacted to Tremayne that had drawn her attention and formed into a question in her mind. "Lissy," she said in as gentle voice as she could manage. "Tell me the truth."

Corliss' throat moved in a tight swallow and she seemed reluctant to meet Zara's gaze. "What?"

"In spite of...everything, did you ever fall in love with him?"

Blinking, Corliss took a shuddering breath, and her hands clenched into fists at her side. "I...I did, at one time. But then – after I found you again – I started to have doubts. I started to remember the old days and I think it...I think it helped." She gave a tenuous smile. "I think you really are a great Healer, in more ways than one."

"Honi might not agree," Zara replied with a chuckle. "But her standards are pretty high."

At this, Corliss' head tilted. "Honi?"

Zara felt her own smile widen at the recollection. "Honi Tallis. My master...I was assigned to her right after you left with Alatea." The smile faded as Corliss' face darkened with the mention of her old master. "I'm sorry about what happened to her," she said quietly.

But Corliss shook her head. "'There is no death,' right?" She gave a tight smile that did not reach her eyes, then glanced at Zara again. "Your master...is she...?"

"Honi's very much alive," Zara replied in a wry voice. "Like I said: we were lucky." She thought about Mundali, but said nothing about the mystical planet, because there wasn't really a need to go into it all now, she'd been told on the eve of her departure, there was far too much to lose, and a small, niggling part of her brain – the part that often sounded like Drake's voice – wasn't quite certain about her friend, despite how much she wanted to be.

If Corliss noticed something amiss, she didn't say anything about it; instead, she reached forward and squeezed Zara's arm. "I'm glad that you're alive, Zar, and I'm glad that we found each other. It feels good to be together again, doesn't it? After all these years..."

There was old sadness in her words, but there was hope as well, and an affection that Zara found she shared regardless of all the other things that lay between them, so she gave her friend a smile. "It really does, Lissy."

* * *

The cockpit was silent for several minutes after Zara and the Zeltron slipped out, which gave Tully a moment to think. As it turned out, thinking wasn't really in his best interest. While he ran his hands over the blaster, checking for anything that felt out of place, he couldn't help the frown that creased his face, because he just _knew_, deep down, that he would never be able to allow himself to trust the Zeltron, no matter what the Jedi-in-training seemed to think.

Once an Imperial, always an Imperial; in Tully's mind, _Imperial_ was synonymous with all the things that were wrong in the galaxy_. _

The thought occurred to him that if Rand had felt a similar way about someone – even someone that the ARC didn't have a reason to trust – he would have gone along with the Miralukan Jedi's instinct with only a minor amount of bickering. But Zara was no Atreus Rand. Kriff, she wasn't even a 'real' Jedi yet – little more than a kid, sometimes. What did she know of the world, really?

In addition to all of Zara's inexperience, Tully was also wary of the fact that Corliss was a Zeltron, a race known for their emotional manipulation, deliberate or not, and he had a feeling that such a thing was having an effect on the Padawan.

He didn't want to keep thinking these things, as it was just putting him in a truly foul mood – not that he needed the help. To distract himself, he cleared his throat as he pulled out a cleaning cloth for his blaster, and inclined his head in Jo's direction. "What was the clue that we found this time? Since I'm an optimist, I'm going to guess that it's a nice topographical map of Iego, complete with latitude and longitude so we know exactly where we're going next."

From her place beside him, Tully heard his sister rifle through her pocket, then felt her rise to her feet and lean over him. "Here, Levy. Would you mind playing this holodisc?"

"A holodisc?" Tully asked as she sat back down. "So, Rand recorded a message of some kind?" Despite his best efforts, a trace of hope bled through his words, because he thought it would be good to hear his Jedi's voice again.

However, Jo didn't didn't answer, for in the next moment he heard the _click_ of the holodisc as it was set into the player, and the cockpit fell silent. For about ten seconds, there was no sound, and the former ARC shifted in his seat while he waited. Just as he was about to say something, a strange noise began to fill the cabin.

At first Tully thought that something in the ship was malfunctioning, as he'd never heard anything quite like the hypnotic, dizzying waves of sound that were emanating from the holo-player. The music – for he had no other way to quantify what he was hearing – thrilled through his veins, at once setting them on fire and turning his blood to ice. Dimly, the thought occurred to him that it was a manufactured sound, created in a studio by some _shabla _machine, but he shook the feeling away as the pitch dropped and then soared again, sending that same feeling of wild energy running beneath his skin. Only an organic creature could make that sound, he reasoned.

There were no discernible words in any language that Tully was even vaguely familiar with; there was only the music, the pure, distilled sound that raced up and down his spine and reached through his body from forehead to fingertips.

For the duration of the song – barely a minute, when it was over – Tully was not Tully. He was not Alpha-85, not a damaged clone, not even a Human. The anger fled; the sorrow and remorse that had become his constant companions these past six months dissipated into the music. For one moment he was simply alive, existing, and for the first time in his memory...it was enough.

When the song ended, reality settled back around his shoulders and made him sit up, blinking behind the blindfold, his head still swimming a little bit with wonder. There was a strange, rough noise beside him, and it took Tully a moment to understand that it was Johari speaking.

"The Maelibi..." She said the word as a whisper, and Tully wondered if she, too, was as affected by the sound as he was, and resolved to ask her later.

There was silence at the helm, then Tully heard the sound of one of the clones twisting around in his seat. "Pardon?"

Jo took a deep, shuddering breath and – unexpectedly – placed her hand on Tully's forearm, beneath the grip of the blaster that lay in his lap, forgotten. "On Iego...the race of beings known as the Maelibi. They're similar to the Diathim, and I remember...Atreus and I found one."

Something with the tone of her voice was different. Constricted. Tully thought that he knew what it was, but kept his thoughts to himself, as he didn't quite trust his own voice to work properly after the haunting sound of the Maelibi. He heard a soft rustle of fabric from the nav, then – to his surprise – a faint tapping sound, as if someone was clicking a fingernail against the console. It took him a moment too long to realize that it was Levy, using the 'dadita,' one of the coded languages that all the clones had learned on Kamino, and he remembered how Drake had used the code to direct him in the battle of Humbarine without alerting the stormies to their activity.

_I've never heard of the Maelibi, _Levy tapped out, his fingers skittering over the new word. It gave Tully a flash of satisfaction to be have to translate the words to Jo, as she was not familiar with the 'silent-speak' of the clones.

Something beeped at the helm, the sound followed by Drake's voice. "Me either. I've heard of the Diathim, though...the things that old spacers call 'Angels,' right?"

"The Maelibi are a race of sentient beings that live on Iego, in vast subterranean tunnels that they excavate," Johari replied, leaning back in her chair; a soft scraping sound, coupled with the movement of her body alerted Tully to the fact that she was stretching out her legs before her. "That sound that we heard...that was their song."

At this, Tully frowned and sat up. "Their song?"

"They are hunters, you see," the Echani woman said. "Beautiful and dangerous ones at that, because so few are able to resist their call. They lure their prey to an opening to one of their tunnels and once the unfortunate being is held captive...they strike."

No one spoke for a moment while the information was absorbed, then Tully heard Levy's soft tapping once more. _So, how were you and Rand able to make that recording and survive?_

A fair question. Tully thought of the sound's effect on him and gave a shiver. He was uncertain if he could have done anything for the duration of the music, as it had completely immobilized was a disturbing thought, lacing his euphoria at the Maelibi song with foreboding.

When Johari took a breath before she spoke, he reckoned that it was as much to collect herself as her thoughts. "The Antarian Rangers had a base on Iego, though it was abandoned some years after I began my apprenticeship in earnest. However, it was my first real posting, after graduating from the school on Toprawa, and before I was assigned to stay there for a time, I was made to listen to recordings of the Maelibi over and over, until I became somewhat used to them. The idea was that if I was to ever come across one of the Maelibus, I would be able to resist their call." She gave a splintery sort of chuckle. "I can't believe I ever forgot the sound, after all of that."

"I can't believe you ever got used to it," Tully said, fingering the weapon in his lap, which he still had not cleaned properly. "The kriffing hairs on my arms are still at attention."

Drake cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his tone was all business. "Iego. Right...well, do you remember where this recording was made, by any chance? Or was it one of the ones that the Rangers kept on file to train their newcomers?"

Before he knew it had happened, Tully felt the Echani woman rise and approach the nav, heard her enter a series of coordinates into the console, then felt her return to sit beside him. "I remember," she said in a quiet voice. "The Ranger station...north of the Scatter. Near the Boneyard...that's where you'll find the Great Holocron. That's where we set it, for safekeeping."

"Good thinking," Tully said with a nod. "Should anyone else even get close, one of those..._things _will gobble them up."

"Of course, _we _still have to find it," Drake added. "And not get 'gobbled.'"

Jo gave a light laugh that – to Tully's trained ear – sounded a bit giddy. "There will be no gobbling of any kind, Drake," she said. He could hear the smile in her voice. "I promise."

"Well, now that that's out of the way," Tully said, selecting his blaster again and resolving to get back to work. "The question stands: what are we going to do with _osi'ka_ once this mission is over? For that matter...what are _you_ going to do, _vode_? Besides go back home with some new scars."

There was a pause, and he got the sense that the younger clones were studying one another before Drake replied. "_Osi'ka_? Is that...?"

Tully gave a snort of laughter. "The little Imperial bishwag that your girl is so fond of? Yeah. Trust me," he added. "I can do a lot worse, but out of respect for the Padawan, I'm sticking to _osi'ka_."

Beside him, he felt Johari sit up, and when she spoke again, her voice was quiet. "Back on Eol Sha, when I went to help Zara and Corliss fight the Inquisitor, I noticed something...unusual. It may be nothing," she added, though Tully could hear doubt in her tone. "But it was strange. It seemed that Corliss was...stalling for time. Like she was waiting for something. And Tremayne..."

Her voice trailed off, and he thought that she seemed upset. To offer a bit of comfort, Tully placed a hand on her arm and realized that she was trembling; he gave a gentle squeeze and felt her hand cover his before she continued.

"By all accounts he's a formidable warrior," she said. "But from what I could see of his prowess, it appeared as though he was...holding back. Like he wasn't really _trying _to fight either Corliss or Zara."

Silence. Then Drake spoke. "You're sure?"

"Echani read the language of the body like you would read a holo-novel," Jo said, straightening in her seat. "To my people, the way a person moves will tell you everything about them. And Tremayne was holding back. I'm certain of it."

Levy 'spoke' again. _To what end, though? _

"Nothing good, I'll wager," Tully growled.

A hushed sound indicated that Jo had taken a breath, and Tully knew that something else was coming. He thought that the others did as well, for the cabin fell silent for a moment before his sister spoke again. "It may not be relevant, but I should tell you that I remembered something else, a vision that Atreus had...long ago. I think it may have been about Zara."

"Zara?" Drake sounded worried, and Tully didn't blame him.

Johari cleared her throat and kept her words measured. "While we were on Glee Anselm, I recalled that Atreus had 'seen' a young Nautolan Jedi – mostly Nautolan, he said – but she was of the Dark Side of the Force."

Very quietly, Drake replied. "A Sith?"

"He wasn't sure," Jo admitted. "And I don't know that it was Zara that he saw, but I wanted to..." Tully heard her coat shift and felt the cool whisper of air against his skin when he hand lifted from his arm.

There was silence for a little longer before Tully spoke up. "While we're on happy subjects, I should mention the fact that everyone needs to be careful around the Zeltron; they're able to manipulate your emotions if you're not paying attention."

Johari exhaled deeply. "I had a similar thought. Drake, do you think that such a thing could be the case with Zara?"

From the pilot's seat, Tully heard a soft creak, as if the one sitting within it was shifting uncomfortably. Finally Drake spoke. "I'll talk to her."

Tully figured that no one could miss the somber tone of the lad's voice, though he was clearly trying to hide his feelings behind a visage of nonchalance. It was a tactic that the former ARC recognized well. But even so, he couldn't stop the next words from leaving his mouth. "Do you think she'll even listen to you? Seems like all she cares about right now is her new-old friend."

"I said I'll talk to her," Drake repeated in a sharper voice. "Back off, will you?"

"This is bigger than a little spat between you and your girlfriend, kid," Tully countered, sitting upright. "If she won't listen to you, then we need to come up with a Plan Besh. I say dump _osi'ka_ off at the next asteroid and be done with her."

The chair shifted again, louder, as the younger clone rose from his seat; the sound of footsteps across the cockpit reached Tully's ears next. "I'll take care of it," Drake said as Tully heard Levy slip out of the nav and into the pilot's seat. "End of story. Now don't you have a blaster to clean?"

With that, he stalked out of the room, leaving the others in silence. Except Tully, who snorted and shook his head. _Kids_.

Thank the Force he'd _never _been like that at Drake's age.

* * *

Admittedly, Drake knew it was a bit silly of him to storm out of the cockpit so suddenly, but the notion was fleeting as he made his way through the lounge to the cargo bay, because he figured he needed some space to collect his thoughts. For the duration of this crazy journey – just over a week in length, though it felt like three times that – he'd hardly had a chance to catch his breath, but now he was about to do something he hadn't done since he and his brothers had left Mundali.

He was going to meditate.

The cargo bay was quiet, save the soft hum of the engines. It was cooler here as well, because the life-support systems on the ship didn't regulate the air within the hold with quite as much efficiency, but it was by no means uncomfortable. A glance around showed the young clone a suitable spot for his purposes behind several of Tully's carefully-stacked crates, and after a moment he'd settled on the durasteel floor, back against the bulkhead, hidden from the rest of the world.

Drake shut his eyes and breathed.

For several minutes he allowed his thoughts to surface, allowed them to brim to the front of his attention and then – as Stonewall had showed him – allowed them to dissipate into space. Even now, he could hear the elder clone's words: _you can't keep the negative thoughts at bay, Drake. If you try, it will be a fight that you lose. But you can control how they affect you. Allow them to come, acknowledge them, and then let them go._

It had worked before, when Drake's own sense of regret and sorrow surrounding his and Zara's past _interactions _had haunted his mind; he hoped that it'd work now, when things seemed to be much the same, if not worse.

Tully's words came back to him. _Do you think she'll even listen to you? _

No matter what his feelings were for the blue-skinned young woman, Drake knew that the elder clone had cut right to the heart of his fears. Zara was not stupid, but he knew that her emotions could be easily swayed, especially when it came to someone she cared for, and he couldn't keep back his mistrust that Corliss knew this too, and was counting on it for some reason. Beyond everything else, Drake knew that he loved Zara, that he always had and he likely always would, but as he'd told Levy on Eol Sha, he didn't know if his love would be enough to make her see anything beyond what was so firmly entrenched within her heart.

The thought was far from comforting. He grimaced, then took another breath to soothe the sudden, anxious feeling within his gut and allowed the thoughts to drift away as he'd been taught. After a few moments a soothing sense of calm reached him, and he felt more relaxed and able to handle the situation at hand. It was one of the more pleasant side-effects from meditation: the clearing of distractions from one's mind was of the utmost importance for level-headed decision making.

There was only one solution that he could think of, and even though he wasn't sure how it would go he knew that he had to try.

After taking a final, deep breath, Drake got to his feet and slipped out of the cargo bay to make his way to Zara's room, where a brief listen at the door informed him that she and Corliss – he thought of Tully's nickname for the Zeltron and smiled – were ensconced. It was impossible to make out anything besides muffled voices, so he gave the door a few taps, saying Zara's name as he did so. Moments later, the door opened and she was there, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity, apprehension and – he thought – fondness.

"Drake? Is everything okay?"

Resisting the urge to peer around her and put his eyes on the Zeltron, Drake cleared his throat. "Can I talk to you for a second, Zar? In private?"

Her expression shifted; caution became evident even though he couldn't detect the hostility he'd feared would show itself. Finally she nodded and slipped out the door to follow him towards his and Levy's cabin, which was empty for the time being while his brother was at the helm. Once they were inside, he shut the door and leaned against it for one moment, taking a second to collect his thoughts again before turning to her.

Zara stood in the middle of the cabin, studying him as though he were a stranger. "Drake...what's going on? Are you okay? We heard a really weird sound a few minutes ago..."

"It was the next clue," Drake replied, moving to his bunk where he took a seat on the edge. Unbidden, Zara slid down next to him, though she did not attempt to touch him. He tried not to notice as he went on. "On Iego...have you ever heard of the Maelibi?" She shook her head and he explained what Johari had told them, watching as she absorbed the information.

When he finished, she nodded a few times, her _lekku _bobbing. "I'd like to hear the recording again. Though it sounds like we're about done with all of this." She let out a sigh and then shot him a careful look. "Time flies, doesn't it?"

He gave a chuckle, then looked at her again. "Zar...Jo noticed something during your fight with Tremayne, and I don't think you're going to like hearing it. But please listen to everything before you say anything, okay?" Her forehead creased, but she nodded again and he continued.

"Johari thinks that Corliss wasn't really trying to fight Tremayne, and that he wasn't really trying to fight her. Or you." Drake watched as her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. "You know how attuned she is to the movement of the body, especially when it comes to combat. And she seemed to think that something was...off during your fight with the Inquisitor. It seems like – from what she saw – Corliss was holding back, letting you do all the work while he...toyed with you."

It was harder than he'd thought it would be to say the words to her, but Zara was silent for a moment, listening. After a moment she glanced at him as if to verify he'd finished. When he nodded, she took a breath and spoke. "Drake...Johari was only there for the last few moments of the whole thing. She didn't see everything. She didn't see how hard Lissy fought, how difficult it was...but I _was _there. I know what happened. And I promise you," she added with a faint smile that he wanted to return, but couldn't. "Tremayne was _not_ easy to fight. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have walked away from Eol Sha had it not been for Corliss, and then Jo's help."

She took a breath, then – suddenly and before he could figure out how he was supposed to react – reached for his hand. "I know you don't think I'm being careful," she said, meeting his eyes in such a way that he found he couldn't look away. "I know you think that my heart is in the wrong place, but Drake-" Her grip tightened around his as though it was a physical indication of her conviction, and her eyes were wide and frighteningly earnest. "I _know_ there's good in her, despite what she's done. I know it."

Although he was not gifted with the Force like Stonewall, Drake could read the intensity behind her words, and it was alarming, to say the least. Unchecked, his reply simply fell out of his mouth. "Zara...you're wrong."

Her hand lifted from his, their fingers unlacing as she replied, and her voice held an edge that he didn't recognize. "I knew you'd say that. You've been unhappy ever since she set foot on board this ship."

"Wait...that's-"

"I know I've been spending most of my time with her," the Padawan continued as if he'd not spoken. "But Drake...she's my _friend._ And a fellow Jedi, at that. You'd act the same way if we found another clone. Lissy's been through a trauma, and she needs help and healing. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous because I've been spending more time with her than with you."

It was a few moments before Drake found the voice to reply. When he did, it was a struggle to make his words clear and not hoarse. "That's not true, Zar. You know that's not true."

She shook her head and made to stand up, made to leave. Something snapped within him at the movement and he looked up at her and spoke again. "Do you know what is true?"

"What?" She was already at the door, though at his words she paused and looked back at him.

For some reason, even though he knew what it was he felt for her, what he had always felt for her, it was so hard to say. But he managed, getting to his feet as well and crossing the room to her in a few paces. "Zara, I love you. I love you, but I'm worried for you."

For good measure, he let down the wall within his mind and opened himself to her, as he had done on Taloraan. Love poured from him to her, and it took everything he had to keep his hands relaxed at his sides and his gaze steady, because there was no hesitation about _this_ feeling, at least, despite the circumstances in which they'd found themselves.

Her mouth opened and she seemed speechless for a moment, which amused one part of his brain even though the rest of him was taut with apprehension. Finally she blinked once and turned around completely so that she was facing him. "I love you too, Drake. But-"

The brief flash of elation he'd felt at the first five words faded with the sixth, and she continued anyway. "But you need to trust me. I'm right about Corliss. No matter what you think, I'm right." Her pitch dropped for one moment, almost as if she were speaking to herself. "I _know_ it."

"I want to trust you," he replied, fighting the urge to sweep her in his arms, as he knew it would make little difference. As he'd learned long ago, proximity didn't equal closeness. "You have no idea how much. But-" It was his turn to stretch the word out as he regarded her and tried to harden his heart. "I can't, Zar. Not about this, anyway."

Her face darkened, but it was not with a blush; she shook her head and turned back to the door, to leave. However, before she could step over the threshold, he dug the bracelet out of his pocket and reached forward, catching her wrist and pressing the woven bit of leather within her palm. The movement startled her enough to pause again, and she glanced down at the bauble with confusion before looking up at him. "What's this for?"

He reached forward and closed her fingers around the bracelet, making sure that he met her eyes as he did so, as if he could will all of the uncertainty away. "So...you won't forget." _That I love you. That I've always loved you, and I always will._

For a moment she looked like she wanted to throw her arms around his neck, like she had done when they were younger, but she only nodded once, taking a deep breath and keeping her gaze on his. "That won't happen, Drake."

The door behind her was open; she moved to step through it. As she left, as he watched her leave, Drake felt a shiver pass through him, and hoped it wasn't foreboding.

* * *

_Long chapter today. I think my favorite part is the Maelibus song...I tried to find something in "our world" that matches how this sounds in my imagination, but I was unsuccessful. The Maelibi are canonical - pretty cool looking, too - but I don't believe we've seen them "on camera," so to speak; anyway, you'll get to meet one in the next chapter! _

_Two more chapters after this! __Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think so far. :)_


	25. World Of Promises

Song: "The Chain," by Ingrid Michaelson, from the album _Everybody_.

_A/N: This chapter opens with a flashback._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four: World Of Promises**

_So glide away on soapy heels,_

_And promise not to promise anymore._

_And if you come around again,_

_Then I will take the chain from off the door._

From her place in the pilot's seat of the _Spiral Dance, _Johari Senna's face was turned towards the stars. Her gaze, however, was inward.

Hours ago, she and Atreus had left Humbarine, and although she had scrubbed her hands for some time, she felt as though she could still feel the dirt beneath her nails; planting the _kina_ flower seeds had been painstaking work, but in the end they had managed to sow the entirety of the desolate field over the course of a day or so. Perhaps one day life would return to Humbarine.

Johari hoped that she never had to.

Though he had not said as much, she figured that Atreus had felt a similar way, for almost the moment they'd entered hyperspace he'd excused himself from the cockpit and gone to his cabin to meditate. Since they'd arrived on the decimated world he'd been unusually solemn, and she thought back to the stories he'd told her of his and Tully's brief time on Humbarine; the story itself was unremarkable for one that took place during the Clone Wars that had ended a few years ago, but she was able to read between his words, and therefore could sense his deeper feelings of guilt and regret.

Additionally, she'd seen the set of his shoulders as he knelt in the dirt, pressing flower seeds into the ground, and read the tension in his face even after she'd gently said that they'd done all they could, and that it was time to go. He'd not resisted, only let out a quiet sigh and gave a nod that looked uncommonly old on his slender frame.

Now he was meditating. She hoped that the action would bring him a measure of peace.

Jo sighed and ran her hand through her hair, toying with the strands before glancing over at the navacomputer: all appeared to be well. They had several hours of hyperspace travel before they were set to reach their next destination, and she figured that it would be a wise idea to set the autopilot and try to get some sleep while she could. But she wasn't tired, not really.

A soft, repetitive tapping sound made her sit up in mild alarm, only to frown when she realized that it was her own foot against the floor; it was an insignificant action on its own, but Jo recognized what her body was telling her, and knew that she needed to find a release for her restlessness. After checking the nav one last time, she rose and made her way to the cargo hold, the only place large enough on the _Spiral Dance_ to perform her _karanas_, her own kind of moving meditations.

Naturally, her first choice was _kohia_, the calming, central foundation to all of the other movements, and the most logical place to begin a series of _karanas. _In the past, _kohia_ was a surefire way to bring about a state of relaxation to her, or to any Echani, for that matter, but something was amiss today. Rather than allow her body to melt into the motions, Jo found that her arms didn't want to cooperate, and her legs felt leaden and cumbersome. Her breath was short and her heart skittered uncomfortably in her chest, because all she could think of was Humbarine.

An entire planet...billions of lives – obliterated.

For what?

She'd seen enough of the aftermath of the Wars and heard Atreus' commentary on the matter to know the truth: that they had been a lie. The Clone Wars had merely been another battle in the ancient war of Sith against Jedi, with the entire galaxy suffering the casualties.

_Kohia_ wasn't working out as she needed, so Jo extended her arms a bit more into the next set of movements, hoping that the more complex form of _jorma _would provide her with a bit of much-needed distraction. It worked for a few minutes, and she found that she was able to quiet her mind while urging her body to shift into the familiar, sweeping patterns that were indicative of this form.

But the calm didn't last, and her mind turned again to the past. How many of her fellow Rangers had been killed during the course of the Wars? How many Jedi? And the clones...Tully had never spoken of it directly, but Mira had told her that he experienced nightmares filled with the shouts of dying brothers.

Belatedly, Johari realized that her hands were shaking and her throat was tight, so she took a deep breath and tried to release the anxiety into one of the broader movements of _tandu_, which she normally refrained from. Her arms swung wide as her feet shifted her body in series of blindingly fast, complex, concentric circles that would have made a non-Echani's head spin. Anything to drown out her thoughts, anything to bring herself a measure of calm.

"Jo."

The sound of Atreus' voice stunned her to stillness, though she dropped to her knees in the next moment and pressed her hands to her cheeks because the skin of her face was wet for some reason. Atreus said her name again and she felt rather than heard his stride as he crossed the room and knelt beside her, placing a light hand on her shoulder. "Johari."

How his voice shaped her name...it was too much. Her longing was too sharp to ignore, and the sorrow that had consumed her heart was too large for her to look away from, but she was at a loss of what to do, because her body refused to move anymore.

And then he was embracing her, pressing her to his chest and stroking her hair, murmuring soft words of comfort that she would forget, later.

They sat together for some time until she found her voice and her composure. Brushing away the last of her tears, Jo leaned back and gave him a weak smile that he managed to return, and she wondered if he'd sensed the change in her emotions through the Force, or if he just knew her that well. "Thank you."

After a moment he shifted so that his legs were crossed and his back was straight, though he remained at her side, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body. "I envy you, you know."

"Why?"

She watched his lips twitch as if holding back a joke. Finally he shrugged. "Miralukans can't cry as most Near-Humans. It seems like a...good kind of release."

Johari wrinkled her brow at his words. "That's an odd thing to be jealous of."

"Well, I've never been mistaken for a sensible man." They each chuckled at this, though silence soon overtook them. Jo's thoughts had returned to Humbarine; Atreus' must have as well, for his next words were without levity. "How long will we feel the effects of the Wars, I wonder?"

Perhaps he meant the two of them, but she took the meaning as the galaxy as a whole.

"Probably as long as the Empire stands," Johari replied, and suddenly she was unable to stop the bitter taint that crept into her next words. "The Wars were devastating...I don't think we'll ever recover from them, do you?"

He did not answer, only appeared to study her in his fashion. Jo sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest, frowning as she spoke again. "Atreus, it was all such a waste. All of your fellow Jedi, all of the Rangers, all of Tully's brothers...dead, and for what? Nothing." She felt her eyes burning again and blinked rapidly. "Nothing good came out of those years, did it?"

"Nothing?"

The word was hesitant, but it was accompanied by the lightest brush of his fingertips against her jaw, as if he was guiding her gaze to him; for a moment she was struck by the way that the emerald of his blindfold contrasted with his skin, and how his dark hair fell across his forehead. Why, of all times, did she feel this way? Grief and desire warred within her; after a few seconds she opened her mouth to speak. "Except your...friendship."

Again, the almost-smile, and he shook his head. "You're not my friend, Johari. Not anymore."

Her heart was racing, furiously slamming itself against her ribcage, and there was reckless, overwhelming attraction muddling its way through her brain. "Then what are we to one another?"

Dim light from overhead caught in his hair as his head shook again, but his words were filled with conviction. "I love you, Johari. I think I have from the first moment that we met."

Conviction, yes, but there was also a question laced within the statement. Oddly enough, her anxiety from before was fading, and the trembling had left her hands. A light ripple of laughter escaped her when she realized her reply. "I love you, too. Perhaps about as long."

Of course, he smiled. "Enough stalling, then?"

"Enough stalling." Despite everything else, she was smiling, too.

And then he kissed her.

* * *

Johari blinked, as if emerging from a dream.

"Jo? Come in Jo..." Beside her, Tully gave a quiet chuckle. "I _will_ throw something at you. My aim might not be what it once was, but I'll bet I can at least get your attention."

Rather than reply, Jo shifted in her seat and shot him a glare that she knew he wouldn't see. After he heard her move, the former ARC laughed outright and leaned back in the nav chair, splaying his legs out before him as best he could given the cramped space. "You sent the lad to his bunk...maybe you should do the same if you've started dozing off. The _Dance'_s autopilot is pretty reliable, you know."

Beneath his teasing tone there was genuine concern, and she felt a small smile tug its way on her face. "I'm okay, Tully. One hundred percent."

He chuckled at her use of his lingo, the lingo he'd taught her and Mira both, then his face grew somber once more and he glanced at the viewport as if he could see the shredding stars. "You were thinking about him, weren't you?"

"You know me too well."

Again, his quiet chuckle filled the space between them, though there was a note of sorrow in it this time. "Yeah. I do, don't I?"

Jo was silent for a few minutes before she spoke again. "I was also thinking about Humbarine."

At this, Tully blew out a breath and leaned back in the chair with another kind of heaviness. "Ah. _That _was an eventful little trip, and that's saying something." A beat of silence passed before he looked her way again. "So, you remember?"

"I do."

"How much?"

Again, she was quiet before she spoke. "Everything."

At this, Tully took a deep breath and knitted his brows together above the strip of cloth he wore, the tattered scarf that had been one of Miriam's favorites. "I kind of envied you, you know. There are some things I wish I could forget." His voice dropped in pitch and his face lowered, as if he were studying his hands, folded in his lap.

Johari felt her own grasp tighten on the helm at his words. "I remember now, Tully," she whispered. "Atreus loved me. And I-" Her voice broke and she blinked back the burning sensation that had begun behind her eyes. "And I loved him."

"Of course you did," Tully replied. "And of course he loved you. I know that I was...preoccupied a lot, but it was plain to see, if you were looking for it." He took another breath and rubbed at his forehead. Perhaps sensing her surprise in, he gave her a small, sad smile. "Like I said, I envied you. It hurts too much for me to remember. It's the worst kind of pain, knowing that you can never go back, that things can never be as they were. Knowing that you'll never be happy again."

His voice darkened further, still. "I'll never forget her last sound, as long as I live. I'll never forget that her last word was my name, shouted in fear and pain as that...that..." His hands tightened on the armrests and Johari watched the fabric start to give way beneath his strength, so she reached her own hand out and covered his left, the one that was closest to her.

Tully released a breath, and his hands loosened their grip as he continued. "We should just dump the kriffing Zeltron on Iego and be done with it. Leave her to the Maelibi and go about our lives."

Johari was silent, thinking. After another moment, Tully spoke again. "Which reminds me...what do you want to do once this is over?"

Although he was quite possibly the most skilled warrior she'd ever encountered – outside of her homeworld of Eshan, of course – in that moment Tully seemed so young, and irrevocably lost. She couldn't see his eyes, but his almost plaintive tone, the carriage of his body and agitation of his right knee as it bounced in place, they were all indicative of his turmoil. Johari took another breath, imagining herself centering her own mind into a graceful, powerful position of _kohia_, of her core. Of the strength of her being.

Of her heart.

More than anything, she had wanted it to be Atreus' voice, on the recording, and a part of her despaired because it hadn't been. Briefly, Jo wondered what would she give to hear him say her name again, but of course she knew the answer.

Anything.

"I have to know," she whispered. "Tully...I have to know for certain. If he's alive – somehow – if he's out there..." She took a shuddering breath, her core of strength dissipating. "I have to find him."

Tully nodded, though the agitation in his demeanor did not change. Finally he glanced her way again. "You know that's probably not going to end well, _vod'ika._"

Johari was silent.

* * *

Since Iego did not orbit a star, the interstellar gases that kept the planet at a livable temperature also kept it in a state of perpetual twilight, which – to Zara – felt a bit like the place was frozen in time.

The feeling was compounded upon seeing the vast array of starships that had crash landed on the surface. When the _Spiral Dance_ descended through the atmosphere of Iego, for one moment all that Zara could see were the broken remnants of vessels that gave the area known as the Scatter its name. Rendered chunks of durasteel littered the ground, old bulkheads and nacelles that had been transformed into a patchwork of housing for the various sentients that considered Iego their home.

"What happened to them all?" she breathed as the _Dance_ slipped over the veritable graveyard. Presently, everyone – even Corliss – was in the cockpit, watching the descent.

Johari gave a slow shake of her head. "The Diathim – the Angels that the old spacers speak of – they lure unwary travelers in with their songs and their beauty, and cause them to crash-land on the surface. Those that survived the landing have formed small tribes, but the Rangers never interacted with them, much."

At that moment, the _Dance _passed over a particularly gruesome, twisted piece of wreckage, and the Echani fell silent.

Broken ships were everywhere. Zara had to resist the urge to twist her head back and forth just to take in the mass of destruction that was laid bare below them. She spotted what looked like a cockpit of an old-style troop carrier, one not used for at least a thousand years; several minutes passed before her eyes fell on what she supposed was the rest of the thing, and she figured that the area wasn't called 'The Scatter' for nothing.

Something about the sight tugged at the edges of her mind; the feeling of being disheveled and pulled apart was one that she could relate to at the moment, and she was suddenly hyper-aware of Drake before her at the helm, in the place that everyone was coming to think of as 'his,' and Corliss at her side, both of them watching the planet's surface intently.

Drake flicked a switch at the helm, then glanced at Johari. "Going off of the coordinates you gave, we should be at the Boneyard within a few minutes. I'd punch it, but there's too much weirdness associated with this planet...I'd rather just take things easy."

"The Boneyard," Tully repeated, his voice dark. "There's a cheery name."

Upon Zara's wrist, the tranquility bracelet that Drake had given her seemed heavier than it should have, and she realized that she wanted to say something to him, anything to hear his voice speaking a reply to , he had said. He loved her, and she knew that she loved him. But why did it hurt so much? Wasn't love supposed to make you happy? She twined her fingers over the braided leather; the beads woven within it were a deep blue that mirrored the springs on Mundali, the colors of home.

Home.

_Drake_.

In front of her, his face was on the area outside the viewport, and he was very still. Self-contained. She extended her awareness to him and felt her throat tighten at the wall that she found there. Her eyes closed and she willed herself to be calm, to push the thoughts of him away and focus on the task at hand, and her fingers fell away from her wrist and to her side. Beside her, Corliss shifted in place, and took a breath as if to steady herself; Zara reached out to her friend through the Force and was greeted with warmth, with fondness and a measure of shame that had not dissipated since she'd first felt it on Humbarine.

Corliss glanced at her and gave a very small smile, one that Zara found she was able to return.

Finally, they passed over the last remnants of the Scatter and the ground grew rocky and unpredictable for some time; mountainous valleys dipped into still lakes, sparse clusters of vegetation littered the ground, and a few wispy clouds slid past the viewport. The Extrictcarium Nebula that provided Iego's light and warmth cast the planet in a somewhat distorted, rosy hue that was almost pleasant, though Zara found that she was bothered by the world's lack of a sun.

As if of their own accord, her eyes unfocused and she found herself growing lost in a haze of idle thoughts, her mind wandering far afield of any logical trajectory. She felt muddled and strange; the rose-colored world lulled her brain into a sleepy, muted state. Perhaps the others felt similarly, for no one spoke for the duration of the journey, until Levy sucked in his breath.

At the soft noise, she felt everyone's attention land on the direction that the young clone was pointing. Straight ahead of them was what Zara assumed was the Boneyard.

"Holy kriffing hell," Drake murmured as Levy let out a low whistle. "Look at the size of those bones..."

Tully, who'd been leaning against the bulkhead across from Zara, made an amused sound."I'd say something inappropriate, but it'd be too easy." His voice was wry, but Zara could detect a note of something beside amusement in his words, something that she likened to anger.

But she had little time or inclination to dwell on the feelings of the former ARC, for her eyes had fallen on the Boneyard; subsequently, her jaw dropped open. Like the pieces of broken ships that they'd passed by only minutes ago, the area – a wide plateau surrounded by rust-colored mountains – was littered with debris. The place was aptly named, but no skeleton that Zara had ever seen compared to the immense size of the bones that jutted out of the rocky ground, some of them tall enough to rival even the mountains themselves.

Pieces that may have once been part of a rib cage curved upward, creating a messy arch that acted as a gateway into the area, through which there was plenty of room for Drake to pilot their craft. Huge chunks of vertebrae – or perhaps they were only broken sections of larger bones – were scattered across the ground, bigger than the _Spiral Dance, _and smoothed over by the elements. Beyond the bones was a section of low mountain that was peppered with massive holes, and it was here that Johari indicated was their destination.

"That's where we hid it," she said as Drake began to go through the landing sequence. "That's where we need to go." The young clone set the ship down on a smooth patch of land while everyone else gathered in the engine compartment.

Tully lifted his weapon, a modified blaster cannon of some kind, hefting it over his shoulder as he spoke. "Just as we discussed on the way out here: Jo and Zara will retrieve the Holocron while the rest of us provide adequate cover. Remember, by all accounts, blaster-fire doesn't do much good on the creatures, so we have to use other means. I've got enough flash-bombs to discombobulate the kriff out of them – beings that live underground rarely like light, particularly when they've never seen a sun. Drake, Levy...you have the sonic emitters?"

"Enough to deafen the things if they try to pull anything funny," Drake replied, lifting the squat, rounded device. "If they use singing or whatever to lure their pray, their hearing must be pretty fine-tuned...we'll be able to give _haran_ right back to them."

Corliss straightened and put her hands on the saber hilts at her side. "Am I to remain with the clones, or would you like me to accompany you, Zara?"

"You're staying with us, _osi'ka_," Tully replied. Even though the former ARC couldn't see, he must have figured that Corliss was frowning, for he gave a shrug as he added: "Don't like it? Tough _osik. _You have the Padawan to thank for the fact that you're not wearing cuffs."

Johari cleared her throat. "You all have the earplugs? If we run into trouble, Zara will 'call' Levy through the Force. Even though you're remaining in the rear, you should be able to reach our position within a few moments to offer assistance."

Levy nodded and Tully took another breath; he punched the panel that would lower the hatch, turning his face to Jo as the ramp lowered. "Keep your eyes open and your wits about you, _vod'ika,_" he said to the pale-skinned woman. "And come back safely." To Zara he gave a nod, which she supposed was better than nothing. As she stepped down the ramp behind Jo, Drake caught her eye and gave her a very small smile, which she took as a good sign.

They'd landed the ship about seventy-five meters from the pockmarked section of rocks; to reach their destination, Zara and Jo had to pass beneath a massive, curved slice of bone, smooth with age. Neither one spoke until they were only a few meters away from the largest chasm, which was taller than Zara and about three meters wide. "Atreus resisted the call for a time using the meditation skills he learned from the Jedi," Johari whispered as they passed beneath the shadow cast by the rock-wall. "You can do the same, I know it."

Even though Zara had heard the words as they'd been planning their assault, it was comforting to hear them again, so she nodded as she tried to push back the knot of agitation she felt in her gut when Jo stepped forward. Light from the sky barely penetrated the interior of the chamber, illuminating perhaps the first few meters or so; the sides that led into the cavern mimicked the exterior, and were riddled with countless small apertures. It was silent, but a faint breeze blew from behind them, carrying the scent of the clones' nervousness as they waited. Swallowing, she watched as Johari stepped forward, towards the left side of the chamber, her eyes on the darkness within.

"Do you sense anything?"

The words shouldn't have been unexpected, but they startled Zara anyway even as the Echani began to poke around in the rock-face. She blinked once before reaching out with the Force, attempting to discern any unrecognizable presence. Nothing.

As she was about to speak, she heard it.

During their trip to Iego, everyone had listened to the Maelibus recording several times to acclimate themselves to the noise, but to Zara this moment was as if she'd heard it for the very first time in her life. The sound filled every one of her cells, echoed within the confines of her skin and _called _to her in such a way that nothing else had in her entire existence. For a moment she was frozen in place, facing the cavern, facing the darkness. She was dimly aware of someone saying her name, but the syllables sounded unfamiliar, as if she were listening to a strange language.

A flash of gold, tinted with the muted light, caught the corner of her eye. Somehow Zara was able to take a step towards it, though her body felt hollow and heavy all at once. The music, the pure essence of sound, was emanating from the gold, and she moved to meet it.

The Maelibus was taller than she'd imagined; sinewy muscles rippling beneath scales of molten gold, and its body was lithe and lean, though powerful. It emerged from the darkness as the sun – had there been one here – would have cast its light upon the mountainside, slow and shifting. Talons dug into the dirt before it to grip the ground, as though otherwise any moment it would drift away, lifted up by its own song. A series of large, curving horns rose up around either side of its face, which was – unexpectedly – Humanoid in shape. It moved to her on all fours, then on two legs, continuing to dig the massive claws into the sides of the cavern as it progressed forward, seeming to pull itself along through the open air outside of the cavern.

Zara forgot everything as she stared at the rippling creature before her. Some small, frantic part of her brain urged her to run, to jump away, to do _anything_ but stand there; somewhere, Johari was calling to her, urging her to break out of whatever spell she was in. But it didn't matter as the Maelibus came to stand before her and regarded the Nautolan with eyes the color of a star.

The song of the Maelibus changed, then. It shifted into what she imagined was the purest form of speech, long before anyone cobbled together clumsy, raw phrases out of syllables. Zara _felt_ the creature speak, felt the language of the Maelibus within her mind, as clearly as if it had spoken to her aloud.

_You have the Ancient Power, little one, _it said, dropping to all fours and approaching her with swaying shoulders. _But you are not what you claim to be. _

"I will be, one day," she whispered.

The Maelibus made a trilling sound that she likened to laughter as it began to circle her, tilting its head from side to side, its expression a mixture of amusement and curiosity. _Perhaps. I have seen your kind before. But there are so few of you now, aren't there?  
_

While it spoke, Zara felt the Force rippling around her, and she was suddenly reminded of the night of Order 66, of the terror, pain and loss she'd felt in the vast energy field as Jedi across the galaxy were slaughtered. It was overwhelming. She felt her knees buckle and then her hands were in the dirt. Lights flashed all around, as if stars were exploding beside her, and she was dimly aware of a new, harsher sound, loud, though it was hardly a whisper when compared to the music-language of the Maelibus as it spoke inside her head. Someone was shouting to her, but the Maelibus was still circling, creating a tight spiral around her body, surrounding her with molten gold.

_You have a touch of destiny about you, child of the Force. _

Zara heard her name again, but it was such a little sound, so distant. Faint, like a final breath. She shook her head as if to clear it, and the Maelibus spoke again. _What you seek...you will only find it without. You will never find it within yourself. Inside of you...there is only weakness._

"What can I do?" Her hands dug in the dirt, and her _lekku _trembled with the echoing music. Something wet was on her face.

The sound like laughter echoed in her mind again. _Whatever it takes. _

"No!"

And then – somehow – there was a hand on her shoulder, pulling her to her feet. A part of her brain noted that Drake had barreled his way past the creature to her side even as he'd shouted; the Maelibus keened and lunged for the young clone, but he had the saber-pike that they had taken from the Shadow Guard. The tip ignited, blazing an angry red, and he thrust it with all his might into the chest of the creature. The keening wail turned into a shriek, but before Zara could see if he'd even wounded the thing – and already her head felt clearer, though it was starting to throb – Drake grabbed her arm and urged her away from the cave.

They began to run; Jo falling in step with them as the others began to fire more flash-bombs towards the Maelibus, which was retreating, still. It was not until they passed beneath the bone arch that Zara realized that she couldn't stand anymore for some reason, and her knees buckled again.

This time, however, Drake was ready for her, catching her in his arms and clutching her to his chest, not allowing her to fall. Her ears felt thick with the shrieking of the Maelibus, so much so that she almost missed Jo's assurances that she'd be alright, but that they shouldn't dawdle. Her body felt like it was made of stone, her head was aching, and she wasn't sure if she could speak, or if even walk upright.

She tried all these things, and failed. But Drake slid under her shoulder, with Jo following his lead, and they began to hurry towards the others. As they went, he leaned close to her, and when he spoke his voice was a whisper in her ear. "Time to go, Zar."

* * *

_Thanks for reading! One more chapter after this...time flies, huh?_


	26. The Longest Road

Song: "The Longest Road," by Morgan Page, from the album _Elevate_.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five: The Longest Road**

_If you are so frequently in love,  
If you prefer it all to me, then my love,  
You'll go down the longest road to nowhere.  
You'll pull it apart and you're just left there._

_Moments ago..._

Drake didn't need his brother's frantic hand signals to alert him to the fact that Zara was in danger. He was only dimly aware of the fact that he was shouting at her to _run, _to jump away, to do pretty much _anything _besides stand there and watch as the Maelibus slunk out of its hidey-hole and approached the blue-skinned woman that he loved. The flash-bombs they were lobbing seemed to have no effect on the creature as it held Zara's gaze, and the sonic vibrations from the emitters didn't appear to faze the Force-damned thing either.

Beside him, Corliss made to lunge forward but Drake was suddenly, inexplicably furious with the dark-haired Zeltron. "You're to stay here," he snarled at her, forcing all of his ire through his words. "She doesn't need _your _help. Now, or ever." He glanced at Levy, who was aiming another flash-bomb. "Keep trying...I'm going down there."

Before either of them could reply, Drake surged forward in the direction that Zara and Jo had gone. He thought that he heard Tully shout something, but the earplugs that the Ranger had given him were secure, so much so that he could hardly hear his own breath as he ran.

Jo was still poking around the cavern wall – still searching for the Great Holocron, he figured – but really, he didn't care about that at all. Not now. What he did care about was kneeling before the massive, scaly monster with tears streaming out of her eyes as if she was being tortured. His shins already ached from their impact against the ground, but he didn't care about that either as he approached Zara. However, he realized that he had only a few flash-bombs, his blaster, and his bare fists, none of which would likely do any lasting damage to the creature.

So he yelled at Johari, whose arm had all but disappeared into the rock-wall as she felt around for the kriffing Jedi artifact; to her back, she'd strapped the saber-pike from the Shadow Guard. At his call she tossed it towards him. Its weight was a comfort in his hand. Drake whirled, ducked below the lash of claws and jammed the pike's head as hard as he could within the Maelibus' chest, grinning to himself at the feral shriek that erupted from the thing.

_That_, at least, seemed to break the spell.

But there was no time for anything but grabbing her shoulder and hauling the Padawan to her feet, urging her to _run_. Levy and Tully tossed in a few more flash-bombs for good measure, and part of Drake's mind thought that Crest would've been pleased with their aim and enthusiasm. They raced until they passed under the arch of bones, which was when Zara collapsed.

Fortunately, he'd been prepared, and caught her before she hit the dirt. She met his eyes and he could see fear and exhaustion within her dark ones, so he hugged her as close as he could, telling himself that it was only to make sure she didn't fall again. A soft murmur escaped her but he couldn't hear anything – even the shriek of the crinking monster sounded distant – so without another word he slipped under her shoulder, nodding at the Echani woman who did the same, and they began to half-run, half-carry the Padawan back towards the others.

It was purely a whim that he whispered to her, and later on he didn't even remember what it was that he said, only that he felt a stab of relief when she gave a soft laugh in reply.

When they reached Tully and the Zeltron, Drake popped out his earplugs only to hear the _Dance_'s engines start, which made him realize that his brother had beaten them back to the ship. Not nearly soon enough they had all managed to climb back aboard and were airborne, with Jo at the nav, giving Levy directions. Zara was walking and sitting upright, but she still appeared disoriented and fuzzy, as if speaking was difficult, so he just focused on keeping her awake – just in case.

Corliss took the seat beside them in the cockpit and placed a hand on Zara's forehead; it took everything Drake had not to slap her away, but he was too focused on Zara to do so. "She's okay," the Zeltron said in a quiet voice, her hand lifting from Zara's skin. "I don't know what the Maelibus did to her, but nothing permanent was harmed."

While Drake was too preoccupied to say much, Tully was not. "Thanks for the diagnosis, _osi'ka,_" he growled. "Now step away from her."

As Drake was about to ask how much longer they had to go to reach wherever the kriff Jo was taking them, he heard Levy's exhale of relief; moments later the ship started its descent, settling down within a few minutes. "Think you can walk?" he asked, glancing at Zara, who met his eyes but said nothing.

Finally she nodded, and her eyes closed in a long blink. "Yeah, but my head feels...strange. It hurts."

Johari was beside them as well, and she gave a calm smile as she helped Zara to her feet. "A side-effect of trying to resist the Maelibi song. It will pass, soon. For now, though, we need to collect ourselves. I hope the old Ranger base is still intact."

The group descended the ramp once more, only to be met with the sight of a structure that was carved directly into the mountains that were looming above it, such that at first glance it was difficult to see where the mountain ended and the base began. Only when Drake tilted his head to a certain angle did he become aware of the glint of light off of something reflective, which he assumed was a viewport of some kind. Upon closer inspection he could make out a small, flat section in the rock that he guessed was where the doorway was located, but the entire base appeared to be riddled with cracks and divots, as if time had taken its toll. There was a flat platform – replete with fractures that the Echani swore were harmless – on which Levy had set the ship down, with a slender walkway that led to the structure itself.

Inside it was cool and quiet, though the ragged appearance of the base did not end once the group had slipped through the door. There were several rooms that broke off from the main one, which appeared to be an outpost, with monitoring devices – none of which seemed to be functional – set along the wall. There was also a massive comm station, which even Drake could tell at a glance was powerful, long-range and quite state-of-the-art, considering the derelict nature of the rest of the place. A row of padded seats rested to one side of the room, along with a kitchenette area, complete with conservator and sink.

There was a fine layer of dust over everything, but Drake didn't pay it any mind as he steered Zara into the nearest chair, and set her down before glancing at Jo. "She still seems dazed," he said, thinking back to the emergency first-aid training that Weave had made all of his brothers undergo. "Do you think she has a concussion?"

Jo knelt before the Padawan and studied her a moment before shaking her head. "The body attempts to resist the call of the Maelibi, but usually it doesn't manage. She's tired, and she'll have a terrific headache when she comes out of it properly, but for now I suggest letting her rest."

Corliss was at Jo's heels, peering over at Zara anxiously; Drake shot her a warning look but turned his attention back to the Nautolan girl as he slid beside her on the small couch. "Hear that, Zar? Just try and rest. I'll scrounge up a hypo to help with your head once you wake up."

She murmured something, and before he could move her head dropped to his shoulder. She was warm, and smelled a bit like the sea, and he felt himself relax, so he reached his arm around her and rubbed at her shoulder, hugging her close and breathing in her scent as Jo moved to stand with Levy at the comm-station. Tully had taken a seat at the other end of the chairs, stretching out his legs and giving a sigh of satisfaction.

The Zeltron shifted in place and looked at Drake, her expression neutral. He met her gaze and let his own emotions rise to the surface, willing her to understand that he meant business. 'Lissy' could try whatever she wanted, but in the end he knew that she would have to get through him to get to the one he loved. Satisfaction coursed within him when he watched as her eyes narrowed for a fraction of an instant.

Zara sighed and her head drooped a little more against him; one of her _lekku_ slid down his arm, its softness a tangible reminder of all that they had shared, and he was able to relax a little bit more. In this moment, it was more than enough for him to just be here, at her side.

A few minutes passed in relative quiet. Corliss had taken a seat across the room from Drake and Zara, and for a while there was only the soft beep of the console as Levy and Johari worked. Finally Tully lifted his head in the direction of the Echani woman. "This may be a dumb question, but I'm a little slow: we got that Holocron-thing, right?"

Johari gave a light laugh. "We did."

"Great. So...what happens now?" The former ARC said the words carefully, and he seemed to only be speaking to Johari.

But it was Zara who answered, her words fuzzy as she sat up and blinked a few times, shooting Drake a smile as she did so. "We have to make sure that it gets to the right hands."

"If you're thinking about the Altisians," Corliss said suddenly from across the room. "I should tell you that Tremayne has his sights set upon them."

Silence thickened in the room at her words. Finally Zara gaped at her. "Tremayne knows about Master Altis?"

Something changed in Corliss' face, tightened. She nodded and looked down at her hands folded in her lap, before answering the affirmative in a quiet voice.

"More of your handiwork, I'll wager," Tully replied with a growl; at her words he'd leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and Drake could see that he was about to spring.

"He knows about Mundali, but hasn't found it, yet," Corliss replied. "However, I can assure you that he's doing everything in his power to change that."

Drake glanced at Zara, who had gone very still. His heart tightened at the stricken, terrified expression on her face. He suddenly felt very tired, and an urge to talk with Stonewall filled him, though he had no idea when – or if – he'd see his elder brother again. Not to mention his other brothers who were out there as well; Keo, Finn and Risky, doing who-knows-what.

As if punctuating his thoughts, Levy slapped the console he and Jo had been working on, and the Echani woman gave a nod. "Well, it appears that Levy has managed to get the comm working for the moment," she said, glancing at Zara. "Is there someone you'd like to contact? I know that the system on the _Dance_ leaves much to be desired."

Exchanging glances, Zara and Drake rose up simultaneously – she moved as if she were better and waved away his offer of a hypo – and made their way to the comm, Tully and Corliss following a moment later. Levy was perched on a rickety stool that stood in front of the station, leaning over the mic and frowning in concentration as he adjusted the signal strength. For a few moments there was hissing and static, then – finally – a very familiar form bloomed to life in front of the group.

"Levy?"

Zara apparently couldn't keep back her excitement at seeing the scarred clone. "Traxis!"

Instantly, the elder clone's face smoothed into a smile, though even through the flickering transmission Drake could read the worry in Trax's eyes. "_Zar'ika_. Who else is with you? We got word that you'd split up from Keo, Finn and Risky..."

"I'm with Drake, Levy and...some friends," she replied.

Before Trax could ask about any of _that, _Drake leaned forward. "You've heard from the others? Are they okay?"

There was a pause that made Drake's heart sink to his feet, then Traxis gave a clipped nod as he replied. "Last we heard they'd gotten caught up with a group of nomads...some kind of gypsies called 'Ryn,' but that was some time ago. They had some trouble, but they're okay for the time being. Keo managed to get a call in and tell me that much, plus a little of what happened on Zygerria." Here he frowned. "Big damn heroes, aren't you, _adi'ke_?"

"That's _exactly_ what I thought," Tully muttered from behind Drake. "Who is that guy? I like him."

Trax's brows lifted at Tully's words, but he didn't reply, only gave another, deeper frown. "We're still working with Altis – loads of trouble, _there_ – and everyone at home's pretty overwhelmed as well, so no one can come looking for you right now, _adi'ke._"

"Don't worry about us, Trax," Drake said. "We're fine, but I'd like to find Keo, Risk and Finn. Do you know anything more about their location?"

Another pause as Traxis glanced to one side, and Drake could hear the gentle lilt of Ares' accented voice in the background. Finally the scarred clone spoke again. "Not really. We-" His words began to be cut off as the transmission grew spotty and garbled, then faded altogether.

Drake shot a look at Levy, who was working furiously over the console; however, moments later he sighed and slammed his fist against the topmost panel, before making a gesture to the machine that Drake didn't need to translate for anyone.

"It's farkled?" he asked. Levy frowned and nodded, giving the thing a kick for good measure. Drake sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand, trying to think of what to do.

However, before he could speak, Corliss' voice sounded from across the room, at a console where she'd slipped off to sometime during their call to Traxis. "If you're interested, I may be able to uncover some more information about your friends."

All eyes turned to her, but it was Drake who spoke. "How?"

Rather than respond right away, she turned back to the console and knitted her brows as she began to work over it; Drake shot Levy a glance, and realized that his younger brother was watching her movements with interest. After a moment the mute clone slipped off of his stool and moved to stand with her, the others following a few minutes later, though Drake was sure to keep his distance from the Zeltron. Some time later, at Drake's look, Levy lifted his hands and formed his next words in silence. _Looks like she's trying to hack into the Imperial intel database. _

Having caught the movements, Zara sucked in her breath. "Is it working?"

Corliss nodded, then – after glancing at Tully – cleared her throat and spoke aloud. "I believe so. The Inquisitors have very high clearance, much more so than most officials. It's necessary if we're to do our jobs properly..." She trailed off and frowned down at the screen, which was glowing crimson against her face. "Oh..."

"'Oh?'" Tully crossed his arms before his chest and somehow managed to glare at the Zeltron even without his eyes being visible. "That's helpful."

"Forgive me," Corliss replied, smoothing back her hair. Drake noticed that her her hand appeared to be trembling, but the movement was so swift that he nearly missed it. "I don't see anything about a group of clones being taken into custody, but..."

Drake cut her off. "Maybe they captured them, but didn't report it?"

At this, Corliss gave him the kind of smile one might give a child who was learning to speak, but was muddling the words beyond recognition; in response, his hands tightened at his sides. "Possible, but unlikely. The Empire keeps records of _everything_, even the smallest, most insignificant events. However..." She took a breath and looked at Zara, who leaned forward.

"What is it, Lissy?"

The Zeltron glanced down at the screen and skimmed her fingertips over the edge as if lost in thought. "It seems that a group of Force-sensitives have recently been transferred to Prakith, though to what end I'm not certain."

At the words, Zara's eyes widened and Drake watched her breath catch. "To be trained as Inquisitors?"

"Perhaps," Corliss replied, though she was frowning again and there was almost a pained element to her words that gave Drake a feeling of foreboding. "But...it's odd for them to bring in a large group like that. Generally only one or two at a time. But this..." She tapped the screen. "A Chagrian, two Zabraki...and..." She glanced at Johari and spoke in a quiet voice. "A Miralukan male."

The Echani woman seemed to stumble backward, her eyes wide; Tully reached for her and helped to steady her shoulders as her hand lifted to cover her mouth. The former ARC turned his face towards the Zeltron. "Atreus Rand?"

But Corliss was shaking her head. "I'm afraid there are no names or more detailed descriptions given."

Immediately, Tully and Jo began speaking in low tones, as if everyone else had fallen away from them. Drake glanced at Levy, who stepped away from the Zeltron to approach him, and the both turned to Zara; she flicked her eyes between the Echani, the blind clone, and Corliss – who was again bent over the console – before settling back onto himself and Levy. "I know," the Padawan said before he could speak. "I know what you want to do, Drake."

Somehow, his stomach had dropped to his knees again. "I know what you want to do, too."

As Levy gave a somewhat pained nod, she glanced at Corliss, and for a moment her blue skin was awash in crimson as she considered the Zeltron. "The Great Holocron was only the beginning," she whispered at last. "But if I can help those other Force-sensitives..." Her dark eyes closed, then she looked back at him, and he knew what she was going to do. Indeed, her next words confirmed what he had figured out. "It's too important for me to let go."

Drake shut his own eyes, and wished – not for the first time in his life – that there were two of him, though he was aware of the irony of the thought, being a clone and all. But when his eyes opened and his gaze fell on her, he realized that he couldn't leave her side, now.

No matter what.

* * *

Corliss knew that she only had a matter of moments before someone caught on, so she urged her fingers to dance over the console as quickly as possible while at the same time trying to make the movement unnoticeable. It wasn't easy to embed a message within the rows of intel that she knew Tremayne checked when he routinely searched for updates, but she managed. Barely.

"Lissy?" Zara's voice sent a flare of apprehension through the Zeltron, but she was able to keep the feeling in its proper place, in the section of her emotions that she was allowing her friend to access. Of course she was anxious, for she would have to be blind, deaf and dumb not to realize what it was that Zara was thinking of doing.

It was perfect, actually.

Lifting her head, Corliss met her friend's eyes and waited as the Nautolan seemed to have to gather her thoughts; behind her, the younger clones shifted nervously. Finally Zara spoke again. "If...someone wanted to journey to Prakith and rescue those Force-sensitives...do you think it's...I don't know...possible?"

Everyone in the room was looking at her; every bit of attention was focused on Corliss and she knew without a doubt that her every motion was being scrutinized, her every word examined. None of the clones trusted her; the Echani woman didn't seem to, either, but her interest was piqued by the mention of the Miralukan Jedi. Zara...

Zara _wanted_ to trust her, she could feel it. The dark-haired young woman ran her hands along the console again and watched the images that formed in her mind: men and women of varying races in brown coats with worried expressions, most of which flickered away after a moment. No one had been in the station for a long time. She took a deep breath, and appeared lost in deliberation. Finally she nodded once. "It's possible," she said at last. "But it won't be easy. "

That was the truth, and she was able to meet the eyes of each person – save the blindfolded clone – in turn. After a moment she added, almost offhandedly: "What you hope to do, Zara...it would go easier if there was someone working on the inside. Someone who knows how things are, there."

Both the blue-skinned girl and he clone lover shook their heads, though Corliss sensed it was for different reasons. Zara spoke first. "I can't let you do that alone, Lissy. Not now."

"Would Tremayne even take you back, after you turned on him?" the clone asked, crossing his arms before him.

It was a fair question, despite the fact that it was irrelevant, now. Corliss thought of Antinnis' face as he struck her; there had been anger, for she _had_ gone against his wishes, but there had also been – she was certain of it – a note of pride. She recalled his past words about wanting to be near her again, and couldn't suppress a shiver of anticipation, which she hoped the others translated into one of anxiety. After a moment she nodded. "You've seen my abilities," she said to the clone. "You know what I'm capable of. He does as well. It won't be...pleasant, but I'm certain that Tremayne will take me back."

The clone – Drake, she reminded herself – nodded, then glanced at Zara. "Okay, then. When do you want to leave?"

At these words, Corliss felt her face darken. "_That_ is not a good idea, Drake."

"Why?" The world shrank to the three of them: herself, Zara, and Drake, the latter of whom was glaring daggers at the Zeltron. "Is there some reason that you don't want me to go? You've seen what _I'm _capable of, Corliss." His light-brown eyes were upon her and filled with ire, his face was stone-cold and serious.

"Drake..." Zara put her hand on his arm and he softened at once, looking at her as though she were everything. Something struck Corliss, then, something that she'd once heard Tremayne say, some time ago.

_Pick your battles. _She watched her friend gaze at the clone and realized what it was that he was offering, though he wasn't aware of it, yet: leverage.

Should things reach that point, of course.

"It's okay, Zar," she said, ducking her head and modulating her voice and posture into submission, a manner in which she was – thankfully – well-versed. "Perhaps he's right. We're all resourceful...I'm certain that we can work something out; either sneak you in or have you wait nearby...I'll have to think about it."

"In that case," the blindfolded clone said, straightening his spine. "Jo and I are coming as well. Especially if Rand's there." The Echani woman nodded, though she still seemed a bit dumbstruck from Corliss' 'revelation' of a few minutes ago.

In some ways, it was too easy. But then, the Zeltron mused, Tremayne had been a very thorough teacher. The thought of him made her shiver again. However. "I'm afraid it will be difficult enough to manage Zara and Drake's presences," she said, meeting the Echani woman's eyes. "With the two of you as well...it would be impossible."

"Sithspit," Tully replied, frowning at her. "That's..." He trailed off at the sound of Zara's footsteps as she approached Jo, and put her hands on the Ranger's shoulders.

"I promise you, Johari," Zara said. "If he's there...I _will_ see that he gets back to you." As if on a whim she embraced the slender, silver-eyed woman, who didn't quite seem to know what to make of the gesture, though after a moment she relaxed and nodded.

When they parted, Drake cleared his throat. "Levy...I need you to find the others, _vod._"

The mute clone's hands fluttered into movements that Corliss hadn't yet figured out, but she could read his emotions as clearly as if they'd been her own; for one who couldn't speak, he knew how to make his feelings plain enough. _Fear. Acceptance. Determination._ Levy seemed to hesitate, then glanced at the Echani as if he was uncertain, and his hands moved again.

"Of course we'll help you, Levy," the Ranger said in her quiet voice, though Corliss could detect her remorse and worry. "But I imagine that we need to spend some more time in preparation, if we're going to manage all of this."

With these words, there was a burst of speech from the others, and the planning began in earnest, which Corliss threw herself into with gusto. After all, she was going home.

Three days later, they were off.

* * *

Although Antinnis Tremayne had few physical reminders of his stunning failure on Eol Sha, the blow to his pride had been – by far – the most severe. Whatever cuts and scrapes had been inflicted on his person had been aggrandized by the unplanned immersion in the sulfur pool, and the uncomfortable sensation of burning within his wounds had not faded for several hours until he and the Shadow Guard – and whatever troopers had not succumbed to death – were well into their journey back to Prakith.

The _Theta-_class landed smoothly, the ramp lowered and Tremayne began to descend, noting with an internal grimace that Umari had assembled most of the higher-ranking Inquisitorius to see the limping return of their leader. For her part, the Pantoran woman stood calmly to one side, hands folded before her in a courtly, neutral fashion, her face turned towards the sound of Tremayne's booted feet against the ramp.

Beyond the Inquisitorius was a cluster of Shadow Guards, fully robed and hooded, their visors creating half a dozen glowing, red slashes against the dark backdrop of the hangar; dressed as they were, it was almost impossible to see them through the shadows that permeated this section of Citadel Inquisitorius. Apparently, Umari had called them, too. Tremayne heard the halting, uneven gait of Priam Tor as the Shadow Guard made his way down the ramp behind him, and knew at once that the young man's career was probably over. He'd seen the wound that the Echani had inflicted. Even with the best care, such an injury would most likely never heal over, completely.

"At last, our commander has returned," Umari said, her voice reverberating through the gleaming, obsidian-sheathed space. "How we have missed you, Antinnis." A ripple of amusement flickered from the other Inquisitors that were gathered, but no one else said a word.

Even so, Tremayne could feel their eyes upon him. He schooled himself to calm, nodded at them as a collective group and continued on without acknowledging any of them. Umari fell in step with him as they headed for the entrance to the Citadel, proper. "I do hope nothing was permanently damaged," the Pantoran added as they walked.

"Your concern is noted," was all Tremayne could say without the words conveying more of his emotions than he was willing. It had been a difficult decision to return to the Citadel empty-handed, but he could see no other recourse. Corliss' locator had been deactivated, and he had no other way to track her at the moment.

"At least you fared better than Shadow Tor," Umari said. At this, Tremayne spared a glance behind him and noted that the Guard was indeed limping towards his compatriots, his movements difficult and clearly filled with pain. Not one of the black-robed figures moved to help him, and the sound of his boots scraping against the smooth floor echoed in the chamber.

It mattered not. Tremayne shrugged the image out of his mind and instead focused on making it to his quarters without losing his temper. Of course, Umari seemed determined to sabotage his attempts at control.

"I take it by the absence of your disciple that the rumors are true? She has defected?"

The mention of Corliss made Tremayne's hands tighten into fists beneath the folds of his zeyd-cloth robe. Even now, he could feel her skin beneath his as he struck her, though the sensation was swiftly followed by a memory of the look in her eyes in the moments prior; she had seemed – so he'd thought – as if she were still his. As if she loved him, still.

But despite this, she had defected. All of his time, all of the energy he'd spent turning her into a living weapon for the Empire – for himself – to wield...wasted. Without his permission, his jaw clenched against the faintest traces of a bitter feeling he couldn't quite name.

Tremayne's next thought was of the Nautolan Padawan. Her power had been unmistakable, and he felt a flare of anger that he had lost that opportunity, too. It was – for an instant – too much to bear, so he glanced at the Pantoran woman who was walking beside him. "Such a matter is of little concern to you, Umari. Keep your tongue behind your teeth, if you know what's good for you."

Despite his cool tone the words were virulent. The Pantoran woman laughed, low and throaty, and Tremayne knew that he'd lost the battle of the moment by revealing his emotions in such a fashion. However, he went on; with a wave of his hand he dismissed the others, and when they'd gone, as he and Eshe Umari moved through the glossy corridors towards the nearest turbolift, he spoke again. "What of the new additions to our ranks?"

Umari's voice was smooth, thoughtful. "The process has begun. Time will tell if they're strong enough to survive it." They approached the 'lift, stepped inside. There was near-silence for a minute while the space around them hummed, then Umari cleared her throat. "Lord Vader has requested an update immediately upon your return."

The news was at once entirely expected and wholly unwelcome. Tremayne resisted the urge to wince, as she added: "When last I spoke to him, he sounded...displeased."

Of course it was another spur on behalf of the Pantoran. Of course, it was another attempt to prick Tremayne's ire and cause him to lose control. Of course, he knew that it would be in his own best interest to ignore his subordinate's words, as Umari only wanted her own position within the Inquisitorius to rise.

But Vader's words echoed within Tremayne's mind, anyway. _Provided you succeed, your efforts will be rewarded. If you fail..._

There had been few certainties in his life, even before the veil had been lifted from his eyes and he'd been shown his true self in the mirror that was the Dark Side, but there was one constant: failure was _never_ an option.

A soft hiss sounded as the 'lift paused and the doors opened. Tremayne exhaled before he stepped out. "You have done your duties well, Umari," he said to the Pantoran woman, whose head inclined in acknowledgment. "The Empire thanks you."

"I wish for nothing more," she replied as the doors closed between them.

Tremayne's office was just as he'd left it, and it was something of a relief to slide into his chair and go through the motions that had been neglected during his journey. Vader would be expecting his call any moment, but he took the opportunity to collect himself, flipping on his console to check his messages and run his eyes over the latest bits of intel, half-hoping that there would be news of Altis' location, or perhaps the coordinates of the mysterious planet, Mundali, that seemed to be connected with the renegade Jedi Master.

Nothing that beneficial, unfortunately. However, his eyes fell on an updated report from the Outer Rim; within the text were an incongruous series of words that caused his brows to knit. After a moment's study, he felt a thrill of satisfaction and – if he was honest – relief.

It was Corliss trying to reach him, he was certain, for the text of the message read: _I'm coming back to __you, Antinnis, and I'm bringing a friend._

So she was still his, after all.

At once, the veil of failure lifted. As he made to enter the code that would send a transmission to Vader, Antinnis Tremayne smiled.

**To Be Continued...**

* * *

_Okay, confession time: I don't actually have the sequel, _Dark Mirror_, ready to go yet. :( The rough draft is only about halfway done, and I'm hoping to continue it very soon, to have it ready for publishing sometime in 2013. This is what happens when the muse calls me to other things and I have no choice but to answer. _

_That being said, I have _every_ intention of finishing this trilogy, even if it takes longer than I'd like, so if you've enjoyed this story, you should subscribe to me so you can keep up with the series. On that note, a little encouragement is never misplaced, and I'd love to hear your thoughts/comments/opinions on the story so far and on what you'd like/hope to see in the future. Many things are planned out, but some are still up in the air. ;)_

_Everlasting gratitude to my beta, _**SerendipityAE_Y_**_,__ whose encouragement and support helped make this fic possible, as well as to you, to the ones who are reading these very words. Thank you. :)_

___Again, thank you all for reading and revi__ewing!_


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